


Shattered

by Katzedecimal



Category: Pacific Rim (2013), Sherlock (TV), Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, BAMF John Watson, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, I'm Sorry, Multi, Sherlock doesn't want to Drift with anybody, Undercover, alexythemia, everybody wants to Drift with Sherlock, this is really long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 17:58:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 30,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzedecimal/pseuds/Katzedecimal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it."</i>  </p><p>One thousand years after the Kaiju War, humanity has all but forgotten the technologies that won it -- exactly what the Precursors had hoped for.   Under attack from a new breach, the people of the First Great and Bountiful Human Empire need to re-learn <b>quickly.</b>  But during that time, they've mastered the time-bending properties of the Cardiff Rift (sort of.)</p><p>So... why are they looking for Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson?  What would a couple of detectives know about giant robots?  But it turns out, that's not the quality the future needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FroggyBangBang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FroggyBangBang/gifts), [DarkSakura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkSakura/gifts), [JoAsakura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoAsakura/gifts), [Nishiko](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Nishiko).



> This was written by the request of two friends. This isn't the sort of thing I usually post for public viewing, which is why it's taking a buggeringly long time to write, despite keeping me awake at night with the vividness of its scenes goshdarnit. Anyhow, one of the requesters asked for bucketloads of angst, so there will be lots of angst. I even searched the chesterfield in case there was any angst hidden in the cushions. Another friend asked to see more of one of my OCs so there will be OC action as well. And it is silly (come on, it's Sherlock in giant robots, how much detective work can there be in fighting giant monsters?) Nevertheless, I tried to use the best qualities of each character and each character is there for several specific reasons. This is set in the _Pacific Rim_ universe because, well, _Pacific Rim_ sewed things up very nicely. So although Gipsy Danger and Cherno Alpha are mentioned and honoured, the Jaegers are OCs. Also, this fic is long. That was partly by request and partly because oh my god this thing is being a bugger to write. So if you're put off by long silly angsty crossover fic, I won't feel hurt if you give this one a miss. But if you, like the people who requested this, like long silly angsty crossover fic about Sherlock fighting giant monsters in a giant robot, I hope you will enjoy it XD

Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable. They were **actually** considering that ridiculous idea to build a giant wall. They actually believed that a **wall** would stop the Kaiju permanently. They actually believed it would be cost effective in the long run, over the costs of continuing the Jaeger program. Mycroft had put forth his best arguments. Even an idiot could see that the Kaiju attacks were developing in a progression. Even an idiot could see that, just because they hadn't yet seen a flying Kaiju didn't mean they wouldn't. Which proved that the people in the chamber weren't idiots - they were far worse than that. 

He walked out of the chamber, his composure perfect. The only sign of his despair was the hand he wiped over his hair. His personal assistant fell into step beside him, never looking up from her Blackberry, even as they got into the sleek black car. "Diogenes," he said tiredly. He needed quiet after all of that nonsense. 

It was several minutes before he realised that the car was not on the expected route. "Where are you going? I said I wanted to go to the Diogenes Club."

"Yes, sir. Apologies, sir," his assistant said, never looking up, "We've received orders to divert you."

**"What?** From whom?" He received no answer. There was a moment of apprehension in the pit of Mycroft's stomach then it smoothed into cold resolve. 

Which turned into puzzlement as the car reached its destination. He got out and stared at the door, then spun around and watched as his car sped away. His lips thinned. He turned the door handle and climbed the seventeen steps to the sitting room where his brother sat with a client and a slight smirk. He barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes. "Is there a point to this?" he huffed. 

"To kidnapping you?" John answered with just a trace of impishness. Abruptly his whole demeanor changed, right down to the timbre of his voice. "Yes, Mycroft, there is. Sit down. This man is a representative of the Torchwood Institute. He's come to talk to us about the Kaiju problem."

Mycroft's eyebrow flexed. "And what does the Torchwood Institute believe you can do, that the rest of the scientific and political world cannot?"

The stranger leaned forward, "It's not the current Kaiju problem that I'm here about, Mr. Holmes. I know this is hard to believe but... I'm from the future."

Mycroft stared at him. A glance at John and Sherlock showed they already knew this information. "You're right," he said at last, "In light of what I witnessed today, I do find that hard to believe."

"I know that time travel is considered an impossibility in this time period..."

"Mister.."

"Captain," John said quietly.

Mycroft continued without a beat, "Captain, we have a portal at the bottom of the ocean spitting out giant monsters who come to shore to attack our cities and fight giant robots and today, our world leaders have chosen to build a giant wall they believe will keep the monsters out. Quite frankly, the only thing I find hard to believe is that there's a future to come **from.** "

"Which is why I'm here," the man said, "The current situation will be resolved but in a thousand years' time, the Kaiju will reappear. By that time, the technologies used to fight them and the methods of using them will have been mostly forgotten. That's why we at Torchwood have been using the technology at the Cardiff Rift to go back in time to recruit personnel who can help us deal with the threat."

"So why these gentlemen?" Mycroft asked, "They are detectives. They fight criminals, not giant monsters."

"History remembers Doctor Watson as a talented team leader."

"That comes as a surprise," John put in, "I thought if I were to be remembered at all, it would be as Sherlock's blogger."

The stranger smiled, "You are both remembered together. Your partnership is remarkable, one of the all-time great partnerships in history. That is what brought me here today, Captain Watson - your team leadership, and your deep bond with Sherlock Holmes."

"Why?"

"Obvious," Sherlock answered, "They're reviving the Jaeger program. They need pilots."

"Surely you have pilots of your own who can Drift?" Mycroft interjected, "Why come all the way here, for these men?"

"We need people who can do it right the first time."

"But Sherlock and I aren't Rangers. We've never Drifted."

"No, but you **are** joined at the hip," Mycroft teased gently, "You would certainly be Drift-compatible and you both have excellent combat skills."

"And thus you've answered your own question," the stranger confirmed. 

"Very well. Then why am **I** here? Back-up copilot, perhaps?"

To Mycroft's surprise, it was John who answered. "I asked for you. They want me to assemble teams, fine. They want me to lead strikes and execute battle plans, fine. But I need someone to make the battle plans and I'd rather it be you. If they've lost the strategies used to fight the Kaiju the first time, they'll appreciate someone with fresh experience."

"There's no point in hiding anymore, Mycroft, not now," Sherlock said. 

"As long as it doesn't involve building a stupid wall," Mycroft sighed. He turned to the stranger and flexed a sceptical eyebrow, "Are you telling me that the Kaiju Wall **worked,** Captain...?"

"Harkness," the man grinned, "No, in fact, it took about an hour for a Kaiju to bust through it. But if you'll come with me to the future, I'll show you what did work."

* * * *

Cardiff of the 31st Century wasn't quite what he'd expected. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but this wasn't it. 

For one thing, he could see the stars. Light pollution was a lot lower than the time period he'd left. The air smelled and tasted different, too. Cleaner? He wasn't sure but he liked to think so. 

"John? You're the astronomy expert," he heard Sherlock's hesitant voice and winced, remembering, "Does the Plough look like it's in the wrong spot, to you?"

John looked, then looked again and looked up, frowning. "Yeah... Yeah, it should be right above us, just about. There's a star where the North Star should be, but Ursa Minor is over there. That's... hang on, that's Cepheus! But Cepheus should be over there."

"Precession of the equinoxes," Captain Harkness said easily, "We're a thousand years from your native time. The North Star is now Al-rai, in the constellation Cepheus. Al-rai will be the pole star until sometime around 4000 CE." 

John swallowed then followed the Captain into the building. "Where are we going?" 

"The Cardiff Shatterdome. That's where everyone is gathering."

"Is London no longer the top spot?" Mycroft smiled. 

"Oh it is, but this is where the Rift is. It seemed easier to keep everybody close. Plus it's closer to the ocean in case we need to deploy."

"Look, Mycroft, they use logic!" Mycroft smirked at his brother. 

Except for one thing. "Why does **Cardiff** have a Shatterdome? Is not the Kaiju breach in the Pacific Ocean?"

"The first breach was," Harkness confirmed as he led them down, "Here we are, gentlemen!"

"Ah, Captain, you've returned. So good of you gentlemen to join us." A small woman in a uniform stepped up to them and saluted, "Colonel Tyree Jenkins of the United Network of Interplanetary Taskforces."

John drew himself up and returned the salute, "Colonel."

"Captain Watson, thank you for coming. I assure you, any assistance you are willing to provide, we appreciate."

"Glad to be help," John said, "My partner Sherlock Holmes and his brother Mycroft."

"Welcome," the colonel said, then she giggled at Sherlock, "Oh, the pictures at the museum just don't do you justice!" Before he could do more than flex an eyebrow, she turned and clapped for attention, "Alright, everybody, let's get down to business!"

The meeting began with the history of the first Kaiju war and the sacrifice of the Gipsy Danger to seal the breach. "We knew that wasn't going to be the last we saw of them. The aliens behind the Kaiju had tried to take the Earth before and we knew they would try again so plans **were** undertaken for the event of a reappearance. Unfortunately, human beings have short generational memories and that's exactly what the aliens were looking for. They were counting on us to forget and we obliged them. When the second breach opened near Antarctica, the Jaeger plans and all of the protocols had been relegated to archives and many of them were lost. We barely know how to Drift. We need to catch up but now we have the means to do that. You are the best that history has to offer and we're very grateful that you've chosen to leave your home time periods and come to help us. Our culture, values, and language are very different from yours and we will do our best to accomodate you and help you to adjust, and we will do our best to return you to your home time periods if we can. Our aim is to finish this quickly and that's why we need you."

Sherlock's hand shot up. "If you want this finished quickly, then we need Dr. Molly Hooper, from my time period."

Mycroft frowned, "Doctor Hooper? Why?"

"Because she's the best there is at what she does and she joined the Kaiju research team at the Sydney Shatterdome. If you want fresh knowledge about Kaiju anatomy, then you want her." Colonel Jenkins glanced at Captain Harkness, who nodded and left the room. 

"I have a question," Mycroft said, "Major concerns to the Jaeger program were funding and resources; have these issues been resolved or are they likely to come up again?"

"Excellent question. How about a brief detour into the current economic system?" The colonel grinned, "Besides, it'll be helpful when you want to nip out to the pub for a pint afterwards."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're a long way from home - Welcome to the Shatterdome.

"Here she is," Captain Harkness smiled, "The Phoenix Majesty."

Sherlock stared up at the elegant machine. Its lines were clean and sleek, vaguely recalling the Tacit Ronin of the original Jaeger program, with its triangular head, wrist-sheathed blades and elbow jets. It was lightweight, with mobility closer to human, but it was tough and packed an array of weaponry that would have been disturbing had they not been fighting giant monsters. 

"Anti-gravity pods and cloaks are standard on all models, of course," Harkness was saying, "In addition to the wrist-mounted plasmacasters, she can also project a plasma envelope that'll fry anything in its path. Doctor Holmes is our Chief Design Engineer; she and her team examined the weaknesses of the original Jaeger program and provided a lot of compensations. The weapons pod systems allow the Jaegers to swap weaponry, providing more flexibility. After examining the account of the Leatherback attack of 2025, they developed redundant power systems to prevent a total shutdown."

John chuckled, "Good to know the Holmes name still lives. I wonder if there are still any Watsons?"

"They're both very common surnames, John," Sherlock sighed.

"They were a thousand years ago," John agreed.

Sherlock was still looking at the device. "You said the units can swap weapons; how many others have you built?"

Captain Harkness touched a display and called up a roster of robots. "Phoenix Majesty, Echo Marathon, Maple Destiny, Unicorn Progress, Power Nascent, Dragon Hydra, Blue Atlas, Io Frontier, Crusader Nunavut, Discover Electra, Spectra Nebula, Gladiator Jade, Viking Edge, Kali Mystery, Raging Mira, Thunder Belarus, Pi Olympus, Laurel Avenger, Frozen Fire, Shadow Onyx, and Opal Caster -- those are the Jaegers currently online, with more under construction as we speak."

"I see many of their designs draw inspiration from earlier Jaegers."

"Oh yes. The designs of Echo Marathon and Opal Caster resemble those of Gipsy Danger and Striker Eureka, the Jaegers that won the last Kaiju war. Doctor Holmes says it's to pay tribute to those who've gone before but personally, I think she just likes them," Harkness grinned.

"She's got good design sense," John said, nodding at Phoenix Majesty, "This is beautiful."

Colonel Jenkins beamed, "I'm glad you think so, Doctor Watson - Doctor Holmes built her with you in mind."

John blinked, "What, really? Me?"

"Both of you, you and Sherlock. Phoenix Majesty is built to take full advantage of your marksmanship and Sherlock's martial arts prowess."

John gaped openly and Sherlock stared. "I thought.. Captain Harkness said you wanted me to coordinate teams and train...?" John said. 

"Captain Harkness brought back a few experienced pilots but only you and the Kaidonovskys are able to sustain a long Handshake. I asked for you, Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson, because you have the kind of bond we need to get this program up and running as quickly as possible."

"I see," John nodded, "Yes, that makes sense, of course."

"And... how long until it's ready?" Sherlock still hadn't looked away from the machine. 

The colonel took out her comm device and tapped it. "Lani? It's Tyree. The PONS on Phoenix Majesty, how long until they're ready? Oh, it is? Fully operational? Excellent, thanks!" She snapped the comm off, "Phoenix Majesty is fully operational. She's just waiting for her pilots."

Sherlock nodded, "Then I see only one obstacle."

"Oh?"

"I can't Drift with Doctor Watson."

* * * *

"Sherlock, what are you doing?!" John hissed, after dragging Sherlock into a small office, "What do you mean, you can't Drift with me? That was the whole point of us being here!"

"I know. I can't do it, John. I won't do it."

"Why the hell not?!"

"I have my reasons," Sherlock said stiffly. 

John sucked in a breath, "Is that why you wanted Molly? You want to Drift with her instead of me?"

"Don't be ridiculous, John."

"Oh really? Now I'm being ridiculous? You won't Drift with me but I'm the one being ridiculous?"

"Obviously."

"Then who the hell am I supposed to Drift with, then?"

"There are other pilots..."

" _Who are not you_ , Sherlock, the whole point was that you and I are the perfect partners!"

"Yes..."

"And we just spent the last three and a half hours in the simulator proving that!"

"Yes."

"And **now** you say you don't want to Drift with me?"

"You have a remarkably astute grasp of the situation, John, congratulations."

"Oh for...! You have marvellous timing, Sherlock Holmes, **we're a thousand bloody years from home!** We're not going back any time soon."

"I know..."

John turned around and threw up his hands then turned back, "Why the bloody hell not?!"

" _Think_ about it, John! We're not supposed to 'chase the RABITs'," Sherlock sneered the phrase, "You and I share memories of some particularly significant events."

John fell silent for a moment, suddenly understanding. "Those'd be some pretty big RABITs," he said at last. 

"Obviously."

John thought for a moment. "'Where is it? Behind the RABIT?'"

"'It **is** the RABIT,'" they chorused then broke into laughter.

"Come on," John said finally, wiping his eyes, "Let's at least meet the other pilots. I understand they've already had a go on their new Jaeger."

* * * *

"Captain Watson, Mr. Holmes," Colonel Jenkins greeted them then stepped back to make introductions, "Lieutenants Sasha and Aleksis Kaidonovsky."

"'Captain?'" Lieutenant Sasha lifted a sceptical eyebrow, "You are a detective, are you not?"

"Captain John Watson, M.D., 5th Northumberland Fusiliers, Royal Army Medical Corps," John replied, "Sherlock's the detective; I became his assistant and blogger after I was retired from service after being shot in Afghanistan." The two lieutenants looked at each other. "I understand you were picked up several years after we were? How many years were you in the PPDC?"

"Six," Lt. Sasha said proudly, "That is also the number of Kaiju Cherno Alpha has destroyed."

"Excellent," John nodded, "Since my background is medical and his is chasing criminals, I shall be relying on your experience, Lieutenants. We've never done this before."

Lt. Sasha nodded, placated. "The Drift is similar. These new Jaegers, they are very different. Smooth to operate, more range to the motion. They also fly; this is ... different, to get used to."

"Not as different as the tsunami engine," Lt. Aleksis offered. 

"The tsunami engine?"

"The engine that allows these new Jaegers to fly to distant places so quickly," Lt. Sasha explained, "No longer do we need to be carried by helicopters."

John nodded, relieved - he'd always wondered whether Rangers worried about whether their cables would snap. "Where is the new breach?"

"Under the Drake Passage, near Antarctica." They turned to see Mycroft strolling towards them, looking serious. "It's even more difficult to access than the breach in the Marianas Trench. The situation is dire; the Kaiju are not trickling out one at a time, they're coming in multiples. The underwater cannons at the Drake Base are the first line of defence, followed by the satellite cannons. They reduce the Kaiju numbers, however both cannons take time to recharge once deployed, thus allowing some Kaiju to escape."

"Still say you won't Drift with me?" John said quietly. When Sherlock didn't answer, he threw up his hands and stalked away, following the Kaidonovskys out to the hanger bays.

Sherlock turned reluctantly but felt Mycroft catch his arm. "What's the problem?" Mycroft whispered.

"If I do this, it will destroy everything."

Mycroft nodded his understanding but then smiled the smile that Sherlock hated most, "And if you don't do this, everything will be destroyed! Bit of a Catch-22." Sherlock snorted. "I've told you before - Caring is not an advantage."

Sherlock turned slowly to stare at his brother out of the corner of his eye. "How would **you** know?" 

Mycroft had the grace to flush then looked away. "Doctor Hooper has arrived and has been touring the K-Science lab," he said, "Captain Harkness took her from shortly after the end of the first Kaiju war." He looked at his little brother warily, "She was very surprised to see me. She said that the three of us disappeared and our whereabouts was never discovered."

Sherlock digested this in silence. "We didn't come back."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Drifts are always rough.

_At least this would be a dry run,_ Sherlock thought as he stepped into the cockpit of Phoenix Majesty's conn-pod. They would be experiencing the Drift for the first time but were not expected to do the neural handshake that would connect them to the machine. Sherlock sighed; it wasn't comforting. He pulled on his helmet and settled into the cockpit harness. He didn't look at John and John didn't look at him. 

The comm crackled with the technician's voice, "Commencing Drift sequence." Sherlock closed his eyes, wondering what it would feel like when he entered the Drift... and then he knew. 

_sandscreamingFREAKpainpsychopathMEDICwhatafuckingweirdoGETAMEDICOVERHERENOWcaringisnotanadvantage_  
OhJohnnyboyJohnnyboyWillyoufuckingshutupIoweyouHesdownIrepeatmyCOisdownEightballwillcostyouLookIvegotablanketpain  
painpainpainpainpain 

_My CO is down! Repeat, my CO is down! John! Captain Watson, can you hear me?_

_Fucking hell... I've been shot_  
I've been shot  
Have to... stop the bleeding  
Why won't my arm move? 

_Captain? Captain? Stay with me, John, stay with me_

_"Stay with me, John."_

_Please God  
Let me live_

_John opened his eyes. They were leaning against a wall in a London alley under the Afghani stars. John sat dressed in his medical uniform, holding his bleeding shoulder, trying to stop his life from running out onto the sand. Sherlock sat dressed in dirty jeans and jacket, holding his bloody syringe, trying to stop his mind._

_HADENOUGHOFYOURNONSENSEBOYpainDoctorCaptainWatsonhasemergedfromhiscomaGETOUTYou'renotwelcomeinthishouseanylonger  
That'srightCaptainalittlemoreOwfuckthathurts!YouandyourgoddamnedviolinI'mtearingupyourleasejustgetoutAdhesivecapsulitisoftheshouldersorryCaptainGoddammit!_

_Afghanistan or Iraq?_

_I don't even know your name._

_"Sherlock?"_

_"John."_

_JustalittlepinprickYouworthlesschildyouruinEVERYTHINGdisowningyoujustGETOUTGETOUTGETOUT_

_"Was it that close?"_ Sherlock didn't answer but John felt the wave of anxiety. _"I'm glad you didn't."_ And the wave of relief. Even now, the wave of relief

_DAMNMYLEG!IfIleavehimhewon'tbeheretocomebackto_

_"Ah," John said from his armchair, "I wondered why you'd decided to take me along."_

_"I knew you'd be useful," Sherlock said from the door._

_SHERLOCKthatjustmissedmyshoulderwhocouldhaveshotsoaccurately??_

_Are you alright?_

_Yes, fine._

_You did just kill a man._

_True. But he wasn't a very nice man._

_No, no he wasn't._

_"He really wasn't."_

_We can't giggle at a crime scene!_

_"Then stop giggling."_

_"I can't help it,"_ John giggled. He really couldn't help it. He felt a wave of amused affection _Godlistentohim!Dudeyousoundfuckin'gay!_ and the wave broke against the stone.

_"Ah."_ Foam of sympathetic commisseration, sliding down the rock. _Freaksprobablyapooftoo_

_Wellthisisaturnup_ washed in on a wave of hurt betrayal and bitter disappointment but it was the froth of

_"How are you able to do that?"_

_"Do what?"_ as a fresh wave of perplexity and astonished admiration overtook and swamped the first.

_"That!"_

_Youmachine! stinginghurtresignationresolutionsteelednervesCaringisnotanadvantageSherlockNoFriendsprotectpeople_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"John."_

_"Sherlock." AwwwwjustkillyourselfpleeeeeeeaseYourfriendswilldieifyoudon'tThere'sarecallwordacodeanumberWellgoodluckwiththat_

_"CHRIST! Sherlock!"_

_"John...!" Sherlockstopjuststopthis_

_"I can't stop this, John." Staywhereyouare!Ineedyoutodothisformeplease_

_Dowhat? "Oh God... the targeting light..."_

_ItsmynoteIsntthatwhatpeopledo?Leaveanote?NoGoodbyeJohnSHERLOCKfallingrunningfallingrunningfallingrunningstrikingbeingstruck_

_He's my best friend._  
He's my best friend.  
John  
I'm sorry  
Sherlock 

_"....Christ."_ John panted, unable to wipe away the tears that dripped from his chin into his helmet.

_"I guess that's why they want us to get it over with the first time."_

_"God...! Can you imagine if we were wired into this thing during that?"_

_"All too clearly."_

_"God yes."_

_"John?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"...Can we fast-forward to something else now?"_

And a wave of desperate giggling crested, followed and overtaken by a wave of desperation and affection. 

_"Christ... Sherlock. We're not going to be able to do this, are we."_ Silence answered him. _"I mean, let's put a pair of post-traumatic soldiers into a mind-controlled giant robot. Who's brilliant idea was that?"_

_"Apparently, Stacker Pentecost did it first."_

_"Oh, right."_

They fell silent for several minutes, watching random RABITs from their childhoods and adulthoods flash by. _JohnJohnnyhoneywakeupitsJackDa?Johnnywakeupwehavetogotothehospitalwedon'thavemuchtimeDa?What'sgoingonwhataboutJack_

a beach of sadness on which a wave of puzzlement washed and broke into understanding.

_"Ah... I'd wondered. Lestrade said you behaved more like a middle child. Middle children tend to be diplomatic peace-keepers."_

John smiled sadly, _"Well spotted. My brother, Jack Watson. He was three years older than me. He died in a car crash when he was twenty-five."_ A wave of sympathy washed in and broke upon the beach, washing it with helplessness and regret before finally withdrawing. 

_"How do you keep doing that?"_

_"Doing what?"_ a wave of exasperation rushed up and smashed against the rocks of John's confusion.

_"That!"_

_"I really have no idea what you're talking about, Sherlock."_ frustration smashed against the rocks and swirled into a whirlpool before flowing away. 

_Igotsomethingthatcanhelpwiththat_ John forced himself calm, to watch quietly as the young man played the teenager's curiosity, vanity and pariah status like bait on a line, reeling him into the world of drugs. Briefly he wondered why Sherlock allowed him to help him stay clean before he was washed away on a fierce muddy wave of annoyance and 

"Are you quite done?"

"You were the one who followed it," John retorted mildly, then deliberately brought up the first time he'd seen a James Bond movie, as a child. A wave of exasperated amusement splashed over it. _"Hey, Sherlock...? Is it my imagination or am I hearing an alarm?"_

Sherlock paused, realising that they'd been hearing the sound for several minutes, _"It's a klaxon?"_ Aloud, he said, "What's going on?"

"Kaiju attack, category four," Colonel Jenkins' voice came through their commlinks, "We've been holding them off with the satellite cannons while Io Frontier gets ready to deploy."

John and Sherlock looked at each other. John sighed, "I can think of better ways to learn how to drive the giant robot."

"Trial by fire?"

"Sounds like us," John grinned. 

Sherlock smiled back and John could feel how tentative that was. "Alright," he said to the technician, "Link us in. We'll do this the hard way."

"Are you certain?"

"We're fast learners."

"Alright. Prepare for drop. Releasing conn-pod." They felt their stomachs lurch as the pod dropped, becoming the head of the giant robot. "Alright, gentlemen - hope you've chased all your rabbits. It's clear minds from here on out. Neural handshake commencing in 3.. 2.. 1."

_"Two pilots engaged in neural bridge. Neural handshake complete. Phoenix Majesty, online."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John fight giant monsters in a giant robot. So do Sasha and Aleksis. Then other stuff happens.

The battle was churning the sea into a froth, making it difficult to see. The Kaiju roared up out of the water and caught Phoenix Majesty in the chest, forcing her back. 

They hadn't had long to prepare, perhaps ten minutes to acclimate to the feeling of two thousand tonnes of metal echoing their every move. They'd had a few sparring moves with Io Frontier and that was it, the satellite cannon was set to recharge and they moved out, their tsunami engines propelling them at over 300 km/hr. 

The Kaiju were a lot larger than either John or Sherlock had really anticipated - oh they knew from the news but up close and personal was a whole different story. John stared at the massive, powerful beasts in dismay. "There's two of them and two of us, but one of us completely inexperienced - I can't see this going wrong. Sherlock, did we come out here to commit suicide?"

"We might have made a tactical error," Sherlock agreed. He gazed at his best friend and John felt a wave of anxiety wash forth and mix with the current of his own fear. The wave broke against a sudden wall of determination. They said nothing else; they didn't need to. They both just knew, and when the Kaiju approached, Phoenix Majesty sounded her readiness. 

The thing slammed into her, making her stagger with the shock of weight. She recovered quickly and converted her motion into a roundhouse elbow to the Kaiju's throat. Beside them, Io Frontier slammed his fists together in the Kaidonovskys' signature taunt. The Kaiju actually seemed taken aback for a moment and paused, giving both Jaegers the chance to rush, their fists slamming into the beasts. Phoenix's claws slid out and skewered into the Kaiju's neck. It screamed, then roared and turned to bite. 

It seemed so natural, so seamless. John easily yeilded to Sherlock's judo discipline; Sherlock deferred to John's instinctive knowledge of when and where to shoot. Nearby, Io Frontier's saws were tearing into the other Kaiju, managing to sever one of its limbs. "Go for the tails!" Sherlock shouted, "Take them out first!"

The tails had been the downfall of Crimson Typhoon, John remembered. Clearly the Precursors had recognised their effectiveness, as later Kaiju had multiple tails. The Kaiju swung at Phoenix and she ducked, dodging around the massive body and reaching to grab the tail and slash it. The thing screamed, pounding on her hull, but she was relentless, sawing until it came off. Io Frontier was less elegant; he just yanked. "They're pretty brutal, aren't they," John smirked, "No nonsense at all, just get the job done."

The comm crackled to life. "Phoenix Majesty, Io Frontier, we're picking up a third Kaiju approaching your position."

" **Three?** " John gaped, "Oh fuck, we're done."

"Not yet, Phoenix," Colonel Jenkins said, "The satellite cannon is almost online. Just hang tight."

"If we hang any tighter, we're going to implode," John muttered and felt Sherlock snicker through the Drift. They ducked and span, slashing at the Kaiju's leg, intent on severing the tendons. "I wish we had saws like what Io's got. That'd work better for this."

He felt the... well he could only think of it as a 'lightbulb,' the sudden geyser of inspiration. "We can!" Sherlock said, "Harkness said the weapons are interchangeable! Io Frontier, can you lend us a hand? We need a saw!"

"Excellent idea, Phoenix! We shall trade!"

John's eye was drawn by a dark shape cutting through the water. "We've got incoming!"

"Satellite cannon online," came the colonel's voice, "Phoenix and Io, stand back, preparing to fire in 3.. 2...1."

A beam of light stabbed out of the sky and struck the new Kaiju full-on. It reared up, spasming and screaming, its skeleton silhouetted through its flesh, before collapsing into the water, dead. **"Shit!"** John breathed. 

Sherlock was already detaching Phoenix Majesty's left claw pod, taking advantage of the remaining Kaijus' confusion to make the exchange with Io Frontier. "Let's not waste time, John! Get your plasmacaster ready!" With that, Phoenix darted low, saw growling as it slashed through the great beast's tendons. It screamed, abruptly lamed, and tried to ram her with its head. As the Kaiju lunged, Phoenix seized its arm and dragged it forward, pulling it off balance before slamming her plasmacaster under the beast's chin and discharging it, blowing its head off. Then she turned to where Io Frontier was still struggling with the second Kaiju. 

Io Frontier slammed his fists onto the Kaiju's head, discharging enough high voltage to stun it, then stabbed through its throat with his new claws. Phoenix Majesty whirled and fired, disintegrating the thing's chest. "I know Cherno Alpha didn't have guns, Lieutenants," John said, "But try to remember that Io Frontier does."

"Yes, sir," came Lt. Sasha's voice, "His control is very different from Cherno Alpha."

"I understand, but remember, you're the experienced Rangers, we'll follow your lead." 

"Yes, sir." 

"And remember that **I** am an experienced army doctor, so return to the Shatterdome and let me check you over."

"We are not injured!"

"That's not what I meant and that wasn't a request, Lieutenants."

Sherlock smirked at the grumbled affirmative over the comm. _"You do enjoy pulling rank."_

_"Their performance is perturbing. I need to understand what's happening in their heads."_

_" **I** thought their performance was impressive,"_ Sherlock offered.

John grinned, _"I'll admit to being surprised by our performance as well."_

 _"We always did work well together,"_ Sherlock agreed. 

John smiled back. "Engaging the tsunami engine," he said aloud, not really surprised by how quickly he and Sherlock had taken to communicating in headspace.

* * * *

"An impressive performance," Mycroft said as he watched the screen, "Two category four Kaiju taken down so quickly, with only ten minutes to acclimate themselves to the Jaegers."

"We chose the right people," Colonel Jenkins agreed, "The Kaidonovskys' experience really showed. Their ability to adapt to the new technology, they're going to be excellent."

Mycroft nodded, "The technology is very impressive. In my time, the Jaegers had to be carried by helicopters. They could not fly."

"The anti-gravity pods are reverse-engineered from Dalek technology, as are the satellite cannons," Captain Harkness explained, "Though as a rule, Doctor Holmes objects to cannibalising other people's technologies."

"After what happened, do you blame her?" Colonel Jenkins retorted, "Anyways, Lani understands the need, she built the cannons, didn't she?"

"I never said she didn't understand and of course I don't blame her, I **rescued her** , remember?"

"Why is it called a tsunami engine?" Mycroft asked.

"It's a type of particle accelerator," Colonel Jenkins said proudly, "The engine produces long wave lengths that travel at extremely fast speeds, like tsunami waves. Then the object being propelled just surfs on the waves."

"So it's a... wave engine." Something pinged at the back of Mycroft's mind, trying to get his attention.

"Haha, yes, in a way. Lani developed it while she was examining the gravity drive. It was developed off of her principles, you know." Mycroft shook his head. "Oh, right, sorry."

Captain Harkness nodded, "We're extremely lucky to have her. Thorin Magnusson developed the gravity drive but if he hadn't mentioned finding Atalanta Holmes's notes describing the principles, we would never have known about are you alright?"

"What?" Mycroft finally found his voice, " _What did you say?_ "

"Is something wrong?"

"Is it about Lani? What is it, did you know her? Jack, when did you take her from?"

"Early in the 21st Century," Captain Harkness replied.

"Twenty years before you took us," Mycroft looked around, suddenly agitated, "Where's Sherlock? Where's my brother?"

* * * *

"I know the signs," a voice said quietly. Sasha looked up to see Captain Watson standing near, still wearing his circuitry suit. "Sherlock and I have both been there; we've stared at our own deaths, we've come close. I was shot in Afghanistan and nearly bled out; only me and the nurse who saved me survived the assault. So tell me, Lieutenant - what happened?"

Sasha looked away. "It was a double event," she answered finally, "We were three of the last Jaegers in existance, sent out to guard the coastline. Two Kaiju attacked at once. One hit us with acid; it began melting Cherno Alpha's nuclear reactor instantly. We were disabled. The second Kaiju leaped upon us and Cherno Alpha fell into the sea. We began to drown..."

John touched her shoulder lightly. "You were still Drifted."

"Aleksis... my husband..." John nodded sympathetically. "And then a flash of light and suddenly a man was there, in the conn-pod with us, disengaging us. He took our wrists and then we were gone. Behind us, there was an explosion and we were hurt."

John nodded understanding, "So you came through burned, half-drowned and disoriented, still reeling from a fight and then told you're a thousand years in the future."

"We were still Drifting. Aleksis and I, we might ghost-Drift for an hour after we pilot Cherno Alpha."

"An hour," John whistled, impressed, "That's a strong bond. You two are very lucky to have each other and Russia and the PPDC were very lucky to have you. We're lucky to have you now." He studied her face carefully. "But you don't feel very lucky, do you."

Sasha looked up as her husband approached. "Russian Jaegers do not have escape pods," Aleksis explained, "We fight to win or we die trying."

John nodded, "I see. I understand that. And.. you feel that you may have violated that principle? Cheated?"

Sasha didn't look up. "We were the last of Russia's rangers."

"So you feel that by escaping with Captain Harkness, you've cheapened their valour."

Aleksis looked at him solomnly, "We did not expect you would understand."

"I was invalided home after I survived the attack that killed my team," John replied, "But Captain Harkness rescued you because you're needed **here** , in the future."

"They should have chosen Gipsy Danger or even Striker Eureka," Sasha said bitterly, "Not failures who could not withstand a double event."

"A double event that was targetted to you specifically," John said - he'd paid attention to the history lesson. "They said the Kaiju share their consciousness and that they're bio-engineered. You'd killed six of them - they knew about you. They knew about Cherno Alpha and they developed Kaiju specifically to target you, because they knew generic Kaiju wouldn't take you down. And it **still** took two of them to do it."

Sasha and Aleksis looked at each other. It was plain they hadn't considered it in those terms before. "You don't look injured. How long have you been here?" John asked.

"Twelve weeks," Aleksis replied, "Medicine here is very advanced."

"Guess I'll need some retraining," John quipped and the lieutenants chuckled. He put his hands on their shoulders, "Listen to me: What I saw today was good, hell it was excellent. You are brilliant fighters and it's an honour to learn from you. I see **why** they chose you to bring here. You are excellent teachers, strong Drifters, and you took to Io Frontier like you'd been driving it for years -- the cadet pilots here need to learn from all of that. **I** need to learn from all of that. And the best way to serve the memory of your comrades is to pass on their legacy. You can make sure they're remembered, a thousand years after they served."

Sasha stared at him for several minutes before nodding slowly. "I see now why they brought you here, Captain Watson. We will do it as you say. For your comrades as well as ours."

John had to blink a few times. "Thank you. That means a lot to me." He turned to leave them in peace and go out to get some nosh but stopped when he saw Mycroft. "Are you alright?" he asked, "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"Not yet," Mycroft replied, "Where's my little brother? Where is he, I need to speak with him right away!"

"He went to the K-Science lab to talk to Molly," John replied, falling into step beside him and having to hop to keep up with Mycroft's longer strides, "What's going on?"

"I need to talk to Sherlock."

"Yes, I've gathered that," John said patiently - Mycroft had his own set of quirks. He'd seen Mycroft worried plenty of times but up until now, the most worried he'd seen him was when he'd enlisted John to break the news about Irene Adler. But even then, Mycroft had been worried - this was agitated, and John had never seen him like this before. Whatever it was that had upset him so greatly, John wondered what it would do to Sherlock. 

When John thought about K-Science labs, he thought about medium sized rooms, like any lab - not rooms the size of hangars. **This** was the size of a warehouse, he thought, looking around and feeling silly. Of course it would be enormous, Kaiju were enormous! He shook his head, wondering at himself. 

They found Sherlock and Molly with their heads together near the far offices. He glanced up to see John then turned when he saw Mycroft's state. "It's her," Mycroft blurted out. 

Sherlock seemed to know exactly what he was referring to. "You're certain?"

Mycroft nodded, "The tsunami engine, it's a wave motion engine. And Phoenix Majesty has a plasma envelope weapon."

"The fiery Phoenix," Sherlock said slowly. 

"They all have invisibility fields."

"Invisible jets."

"They said her name," Mycroft said, "Remember her last idea? The ship that chases a singularity? Someone found her notes and made it real, they made it into the gravity drive that they use for interstellar travel now. That's how they knew about her; the fellow who created the drive recorded her name. **It's her.** "

John and Molly exchanged quizzical looks of bafflement. 

"So.. why hasn't she said anything?" Sherlock said reluctantly.

"Colonel Jenkins said she'd designed Phoenix Majesty for you and John, to take advantage of your best fighting styles," Mycroft agreed, "Surely she knows you're here."

Molly and John shrugged at each other, then turned as they became aware of running feet and shouting approaching from an outside hallway. "..eremy! Jeremy! Jeremy!!" 

"Ah," John grinned, "Someone having a brainstorm! I'd know that sound anywhere." Molly giggled but Sherlock and Mycroft had gone pale. 

"Jeremy!" The doors burst open and a woman ran through, lab coat billowing, ginger hair wild. Her almond-shaped eyes were wide with excitement. A man looked up as she screeched to a halt beside him, shaking her hands. "Centripetal force!!!" she exclaimed, "What if we inject the stream laterally???"

The man's eyes widened, "And send it cyclonic!"

"Yes, yes, exactly!!"

The man jumped up from his chair, "That might just work!" The pair disappeared back through the doors and down the hall, the woman hopping and gesculating in a manner that made John smile because it was so familiar. 

"That was Doctor Holmes," Molly chuckled, "The creator of the new Jaegers. She's working on a new tactic. She even looks a bit like Sherlock, doesn't she?"

"In more ways than one," John grinned. He looked over at Sherlock and froze. His friend was scrubbing tears from his face with a look of mild annoyance. 

Mycroft rested his hand on his brother's shoulder. His own face was wet. "Or," he said with a little smile, "Maybe she just doesn't recognise us. It **has** been twenty years."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John meets the infamous Mummy - it doesn't go quite how he expected. 
> 
> Mycroft goes to a conference in London - that doesn't go as expected either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this picture](http://images.wikia.com/pacificrim/images/6/6a/Tacit_ronin_jaeger_pacificrim_movie.jpg) :)

"Lani! Lani! Atalanta!"

"What?" Doctor Holmes snapped.

Colonel Jenkins stared at her, "Why didn't you tell me _they're your sons?!_ "

Lani turned back to her work, "Your reaction is your answer."

"If you had told me, we could have-"

"Could have what, Tyree? Found another way? Why? They're the best, they're what we need."

"They're **your children!** "

"And that changes everything?" Lani straightened up slowly to stare at the colonel, "I don't understand, Tyree, did you think they were hatched from eggs? Explain it to me, it was perfectly alright to throw them at the Kaiju as long as they were inexplicably born from the forehead of Zeus? It was alright to drag them out of their time periods and send them on suicide missions as long as their mothers were anonymous? But now that their mother is someone you know, suddenly the plans have to change?" The colonel swallowed and looked away. " **This** is why I didn't tell you, Tyree." Lani turned back to her work, "Sigurd was right about one thing, caring **isn't** an advantage, although he meant it in an entirely different fashion than I do. You want this ended quickly; my boys are the best hope for doing that. That's why I asked for them and it looks like they've already got an idea."

Tyree said nothing for a long time. "Are you going to talk to them?" she said finally. 

"Eventually."

"They've already worked it out."

"Then I shall have no choice."

Tyree stared. "This isn't like you."

"On the contrary, Tyree, this is very like me, this is like how I **was.** " Lani straightened up to stare back, her eyes hard, "You know what happened. You know what Sigurd did, but they were children, they only saw the effect, they didn't know about the cause. Now they are adults and there will be questions. And you took me out of that and brought me here where nobody treats me like there's something wrong with me and you asked me to make **giant robots** for reasons that don't involve being shits to other people," she paused to wipe the tears that were streaking her face, "And you can't even conceive of how **_happy_** I've been for the last eighteen months because your whole society, people just don't think that way anymore."

"Eighteen months?" They both looked around at a new voice. "Is that how long it's been for you?"

"Lani, this is Captain Doctor John Watson," Colonel Jenkins said quietly, "Captain Watson, this is Doctor Atalanta Holmes."

"Eighteen months?" John said again, "For them, you've been missing for **twenty years.** "

Lani looked like Sherlock did whenever he couldn't figure out how to respond to something. Eventually she settled on, "Unfortunate."

"You couldn't have left them a.. a note or something?"

Lani stared at him incredulously. "What was I supposed to say, 'Been kidnapped by terrorists, tea's in the fridge, don't wait up?'" Now it was John's turn to stare. "What, you didn't **know?!** " John shook his head ever so slightly. Lani's eyes narrowed and she tipped her head in the same fashion as Mycroft did, whenever he was realising something, "Neither of them knew?"

"They only knew that you had disappeared," John said apologetically, "They.. to be honest, they thought you had committed suicide."

Lani snorted. "Well, they weren't too far off there. I might have done if Sigurd hadn't sold me out first." She glanced at Tyree, who was dithering over whether or not she should leave. "How much do you know about me, Doctor Watson?"

"Very little," John admitted, "They don't talk about you much. Too painful, I believe. They say that you were an inventor but that your husband liked to claim your work and sell it as his own."

Lani snorted again, "And didn't that just bite him on the arse." 

John blinked, not just because of the unaccustomed profanity spilling from a Holmes mouth. "How so? No...What **exactly** happened?"

Lani faced him with a defiant look. "I like comic books, Doctor Watson," she said, almost daring him to say anything about it, "And I like sci-fi shows and cartoons. Wonder Woman's invisible plane, the Legion's flight ring, Brainiac 5's forcefield belt, Luke Skywalker's lightsabre - I tried to bring those to life. I had nothing else to do; it was a hobby. I was also ridiculously naive and didn't realise how Sigurd was looking at them. I saw toys; he saw weapons and he sold them to the highest bidders."

John understood immediately. "Oh no..."

"He was kidnapped by people who hoped to force him to make weapons for them. He told them he only sold the results, that **I** was the brains behind them. So they killed him and kidnapped me instead."

John stared. "They said he died in a .... car accident. Of course." He rubbed his forehead then passed his hand down his face. "They have no idea." Lani said nothing. "Then Captain Harkness rescued you and brought you here to build more weapons."

Lani nodded. "Giant robots. I used to love Robotech and Mobile Suit Gundam," she sighed then her voice turned sour, "My sons took their tone from Sigurd and thought it was ridiculous. Yes, they're weapons. No, I'm not happy about that aspect."

John nodded, thoughtful. "You're not at all like how I imagined you," he said finally. He chuckled, "I imagined someone more like Judi Dench, someone more like Mycroft." Lani's mouth had drawn down into an expression that John had seen many times on Mycroft's face and he laughed, "My God, you're their Mum, alright!"

"Is there a point to this, Doctor Watson? Why did you come down here?"

John remembered himself and smiled. "Actually, there was. I wanted to know if you could build a medevac bay into Phoenix Majesty somehow. While I'm certain my medical knowledge is as antiquated as a plague doctor's in this time period, I can still get a patient stabilised and that's got to be worth something."

Lani nodded, "Yes, I think I can do that. I can rearrange some of the components in the chest cavity. I think I can make some of them more efficient anyways." John nodded but hesitated. "Something else?"

"It's Sherlock," John said at last, "I'm a doctor and Mycroft's a strategist but Sherlock's a detective and there isn't much detecting for him to do here. He's going to start feeling like a third wheel pretty quickly and after that, he won't last long. He needs something to keep his mind occupied when we're not fighting Kaiju."

The ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Lani's mouth. "I wouldn't worry about that too much. Word's already getting around. The methods have changed, of course, but observation hasn't nor has the fact that nobody is as observant as Sherlock."

John froze for an instant, "What do you mean 'word's already getting around?'"

"That Sherlock Holmes has been brought here. That he's the real Sherlock Holmes."

"The real Sherlock Holmes," John echoed. His scalp was crawling. 

"And you're the real Doctor Watson."

John shook his head, "I still can't get over it... a thousand years on and people _still know about us._ "

A strange light lit in Lani's eyes and her face spread into a grin that John knew well - if rarely - from Sherlock. "Oh yes," she said, "I was quite surprised at just how well you're remembered."

* * * *

_painpainpainpainFREAKMyCOisdownrepeatmyCOisdownCanyoubelievethatguyYou'rejustlikeDaHarryyou'reexactlylikeDaWhenareyougoingtolearnthatit'sMYLIFE_

_Wellthisisaturnupisntit_ waves of hurt betrayed confused hurt painpainpain drowning out the sound of pounding heart

_"You're doing it again."_

_"Doing what?"_

_"That!"_ Frustrated wave crashing on the beach of John's confusion, frothing, foaming _"That thing where you figure out what it all means!"_

A glimmer of dawn on the horizon. _"Your emotions, you mean?"_

_"Yes!"_ Waves of frustration choppy silhouettes against the dawning comprehension _"I can never make sense of them."_ Storms in the distance memories of hurricanes too much too powerful all at once

The sun rose.

_"Alexythemia."_

_"What?"_

_"It's when the feelings are there but the person can't sort them out or identify them."_

_"There's a word for that??"_

_"Yes. It's pretty common but for some reason, it isn't on most counsellors' radar."_ crackle of lightning in the distance and a wave of... apprehension? _"Including mine, apparently. Sorry, Sherlock."_

The comm crackled, "Prepare for drop." And then the stomach-turning sensation of the conn-pod plummeting onto Phoenix Majesty's shoulders. They looked at each other and grinned. _"Handshake established. Two pilots engaged in neural bridge. Calibration complete. Phoenix Majesty, online."_ And they shifted into the calibration pose they had practiced. 

The entire control room burst into laughter but none moreso than Captain Harkness, Dr. Holmes and Molly, who had each collapsed across their stations and had tears running down their faces. 

"I hope Mycroft saw that," Sherlock chuckled. 

"Come on," John said, when he finally got control of his giggles, "Let's get these pilots trained up."

The training had been going exceedingly well. Over the last few days, Sherlock's deductive abilities had proven to be an enormous boon to John in selecting suitable pairs. The first Jaegers were staffed and Drifting well and were now being trained by the Kaidonovskys in driving the enormous machines. They waded out into Cardiff Bay to join the other Jaegers in some weapons-pod swap maneuver exercises.

* * * *

"Weapons-pod exchanges are functioning properly," Captain Harkness reported, "Cloaks are perfect. And tell me somebody got vid of that Sailor Moon pose."

"That was priceless," Atalanta giggled, "Ah good, Phoenix's medevac bay doors are functioning. Fast work, fellas, good job."

"It was a good idea," Hakim nodded, "But since Captain Watson's medical knowledge is, erm, out of date, to be polite, we automated as much of the bay as possible, mostly stasis equipment. We tied it into Phoenix's controls, though, so he doesn't have to disengage."

Atalanta nodded, "Since it's automated, if it works, we can consider fitting the other Jaegers as well. It seems a good idea." She glanced up at Colonel Jenkins and frowned, "Tyree?"

Colonel Jenkins shook her head slowly, her expression baffled, "We're getting reports of Kaiju approaching a number of port cities."

Captain Harkness's head shot up, "What? There's been no movement in the breach!"

"I know, that's what's puzzling, but we're getting calls from Lisbon, Boston, Halifax, Cadiz, Boulogne-sur-Mer..."

"Those are all North Atlantic cities."

"Just heard from London," the colonel reported.

Captain Harkness looked at her, "Isn't there a conference there today?"

* * * *

So many things were different about London of the 31st Century; unfortunately, bureaucracy wasn't one of them. Mycroft sighed and rubbed his forehead. At least they weren't considering big stupid walls as a means of defence - he consoled himself with that. Since there were a large number of foreign dignitaries (and in this time period, 'foreign' meant other worlds, not just other countries), they had elected to hold part of the conference on a river boat, giving a nice tour of the Thames. He still had fifteen minutes left to his break and they did have some delicious cake to go with some acceptable coffee... 

Which was trembling. Rhythmically. Mycroft watched the surface shake, feeling a sense of deja vu - he wasn't a movie-goer but one of his co-workers had enthusiastically described a scene such as this, back some time in the 1990s. He became aware of the sound of screaming and stepped out onto the deck, puzzled. Then he looked with dread towards the direction of the Estuary. _Kaiju, here? And I'm on a boat..._ Which was starting to lurch from the waves washing up the river from the giant beasts. Watching from the deck, he felt completely helpless as all hell started breaking loose. Around him, dignitaries and staff started rushing for the lifeboats, seeking to evacuate. The monsters' roars became audible as they made their way up the river. And then, the unmistakable foghorn bellow of a Jaeger. 

He looked up, just as the Kaiju did, but saw nothing. The Jaeger sounded again but still he saw nothing - then just as he remembered about it, the Jaeger decloaked and Phoenix Majesty plummeted out of the clouds, plunging her claws into the Kaiju's hide. The Kaiju screamed and a massive cheer went up as Power Nascent and Unicorn Progress also decloaked and thundered out of the sky, sounding. Phoenix Majesty yanked her claws out of the Kaiju and backhanded the beast across the jaw. She slammed her fists up into the Kaiju's face then down onto its head, stunning it. 

Almost everybody was off the boat and on shore, now. Almost everybody - Mycroft and a handful of others were still waiting with growing anxiety. Power Nascent heaved her Kaiju opponent into the air and flung it back, just as the satellite cannon's beam skewered through the clouds. The beast screamed and fell dead into the water. 

Sending a huge wave up the Thames, too fast. Mycroft saw it just in time for it to overtake the tour boat. He leaped over the deck just as the boat rose up on a wall of water, then groaned and overturned. He struggled to swim but was sucked down into the swirling water. His last thought was regret that he had never told his little brother that he was proud of him. Then the blackness at the edges of consciousness closed in. 

Something collided with his back. He fought to stay awake as suddenly he was rising and bursting through the black water back into the air. He coughed, gasping hard for breath, struggling to push the water from his eyes and see what monstrosity towered over him, kneeling in the water. 

It was Phoenix Majesty; he was cupped in her hand. Behind her, the other Jaegers were finishing off the remaining Kaiju. He coughed again and struggled to sit up as Phoenix's head tilted, identifying him. Bathed in the light of her visor and beacons, he smiled. Her other hand came up, cradling him safely as she rose to her feet, rising hundreds of feet into the air. The medevac bay door in her chest slid open and she cupped her hands to her chest as an automated chamber swung forward to receive him. He crawled into it and collapsed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Sherlock feared has come to pass, but he can't dwell on that now. Mycroft thinks he knows what's going on and he has a plan for confirmation, but for that, he needs his little brother.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" John asked quietly, but even as he asked, he knew.

_Fortherecord,ifanybodyouttherestillcares,I'mnotgay!  
andthe waves of_

They were in the drivesuit room, divesting of their suits, and they were still moving in synchronicity. When John realised he was still feeling Sherlock's emotions, he was startled, but not as much as when he recognised **what** Sherlock was feeling. It unnerved John almost as much as realising that they were ghost-Drifting.

"I need to think about this," John said. Sherlock said nothing. "Just.. just give me some time. I need to think it through." Sherlock turned away with the barest nod of acknowledgement. John caught his shoulder lightly and Sherlock turned to look at him guardedly. "It won't.. it won't _harm_ us," John said, struggling for a way to phrase it, "I promise." 

Sherlock seemed to understand. He nodded once then turned and strode away towards the Medical level. 

* * * * 

It was late when Mycroft awoke. He looked around his dimly lit room and recognised the silhouette of his little brother immediately. "Have you been waiting long?" he asked, wiping sleep from his eyes. Sherlock shrugged, his way of saying 'yes but I'm not going to tell you that.' Instead, Mycroft said, "That was a marvellous attack. Those Kaiju didn't know what to think. You caught them completely by surprise." 

Sherlock glanced away, silent, uncertain how to react to blatant praise from his ever-critical big brother. "John's a good strategist," he said finally.

Mycroft didn't believe that for a second. "And how is Miss Hooper?"

"She's prepared one of the carcasses and is holding it for us."

"Good. So, we're in agreement?"

"The Drake Passage base recorded no movement in the breach. Nothing came out of it yet six North Atlantic cities were attacked by multiple Kaiju. There's only one conclusion."

"A second breach has opened," Mycroft agreed, "Does John know?"

Sherlock shifted uncomfortably, "I managed to hide it from him."

"He'll be dreadfully upset."

"If this works, we'll need him to cover our retreat."

Mycroft conceded that but, "Who will Drift with him?"

"There are other pilots with whom he's Drift-compatible. We made sure of that."

"Alright then. Shall we?"

"You're sufficiently recovered?"

"A bit of water went down the wrong way, that's all," Mycroft said easily as he swung out of bed and reached for his clothes. He thought for a moment, then added, "A very timely rescue."

Again, Sherlock shifted uncomfortably but his eyes flicked briefly at Mycroft before looking away. "Phoenix Majesty is still being cleaned up."

"I believe Shadow Onyx will do better for our purposes," Mycroft said as they walked out into the halls, "As soon as I saw that one, I felt it was suitable for espionage missions. When you requested Doctor Hooper, I knew you were thinking along the same lines."

Sherlock snorted and smirked, "You just want to drive a giant robot." When Mycroft took too long to reply, he laughed. "I assure you, it takes considerable legwork."

"Oh shut up, Sherlock."

They kept bickering all the way up to Shadow Onyx's hangar bay and Sherlock was not quite able to hide his relief that his big brother was still around to bicker with. He helped Mycroft into a drivesuit then they stepped into the conn-pod and strapped themselves in. "Ermmmm.... We might have overlooked a detail."

Mycroft looked puzzled for a moment. "Oh! ....right. A technician."

"We can initiate the Drift and probably drop the conn-pod but a technician has to initiate the neural handshake."

"I can't believe we **both** overlooked that." They looked at each other. So far, their plan to steal a Jaeger for a reconnaissance mission was off to a great start. 

The control room door opened and a woman walked in. They both jumped as an overhead door opened and a crane started up. Baffled, they watched as the crane loaded a weapon-pod onto Shadow Onyx, endowing her with a bulky cylinder. "Prepare for Drift," the woman said into the comm. They looked at each other again. "I can give you ten minutes to chase your RABITs before drop."

"That..... should be sufficient," Mycroft said uncertainly, "It's good to see you again, Mummy."

Lani slapped the console, "Look, can you not? I'm trying not to think about the pilots I'm sending on a suicide mission are my own sons, alright?"

Mycroft glanced at Sherlock and smiled wanly. "I know what you mean," he sighed.

"I've given Shadow Onyx a couple of experimental extras. They haven't been tested, try not to use them unless you're desperate."

"Did you plan this?" Sherlock snapped. 

Lani glared at the comm, "You asked for a Kaiju expert and salvaged a Kaiju carcass, and Mycroft kept staring at Shadow Onyx -- it wasn't that hard to work out what you were up to. There are several types of computer interface systems on board; if you're lucky, one of them will interface with whatever they've got there and you can hack into them. Now get ready for Drift."

They glanced at each other, resigned, then nodded. "We're ready."

"Commencing in 3.. 2.. 1.."

_resentmentanxietyresentresentanxietyWhycan'tyoubemorelikeTerriblydisappointedinyouMycroftShameonyouSherlocklearnfromMycroftIt'snotfairwhydoesSherlockgetawaywitheverything??_

_'Suicide of Fake Genius'_

_regretregretregretI'msosorry_

_"'Explosion at Cake Factory.'"_

_"... **Really** , Sherlock? **Now?** " A hill of indignation rising crumbling into a puddle of amusement rippling_

_FirstDriftsarehardwehavealotofbaggagethiswayiseasier_

_Phoenix Majesty dropping out of the sky, plunging her claws into a screaming Kaiju a massive cheer went up That's my little brother up there That's my little brotherJOHN!That'smybig brother That's Mycroft downthereMycroftwhat'shedoinghere JOHNJohnwehavetosavehim_

_Youhavetosavehim,he'smylittlebrother,Iwillnotacceptanyfailure "Oh please.. Can you not?"_

_"Sorry. I wasn't expecting it to be this difficult."_

_"'There were no cupcake survivors.'"_

_"Must you?"_

"Time, boys."

Sherlock flexed his neck and shoulders and looked at his brother, "Ready?"

"I hope so," Mycroft sighed, "You were right, this is much more challenging than I thought it would be."

"Alright - Drop us." They lurched as the pod dropped and connected to Shadow Onyx. 

"Initiating neural handshake."

"Calibrating left hemisphere."

"Calibrating right hemisphere."

_"Calibration complete. Two pilots engaged in neural bridge. Shadow Onyx, online."_

The hangar doors slid open. Atalanta watched as the sleek machine strode out into the dark waters of Cardiff Bay, gleaming under the moonlight. Tears ran unchecked down her face. "Godspeed, my sons."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Mycroft have a plan to nick a Jaeger and a Kaiju carcass (kindly eviscerated by one Dr. Molly Hooper) and go through the breach to gather as much intel about the Progenitors as they can. .... that was the idea, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not familiar with it, the [Hado Ho](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4phT2Vukvn0), or [Wave Motion Gun](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ty-1zWsXFNs) is what you use when you absolutely, positively **have** to blow away **everything** in your path :3

"Ugh, this thing stinks."

"It's better than the stench of Anderson's stupidity," Sherlock agreed, "Although not by much."

"Mm - I must admit I find the smell of bogged-down bureaucracy to be preferable to the smell of rotting Kaiju."

"We're almost there."

"Yes, I can see that."

Sherlock rolled his eyes but managed to curtail his annoyance. "How do you think she managed to do that? At one point, I think we topped over five hundred kilometres an hour!"

"While carrying a Kaiju," Mycroft agreed. 

"Exactly! The forces should have ripped this thing apart."

"If I understand the principle of operation - which I don't - the tsunami engine generates some sort of slipstream that deflects the forces and allows the cargo to glide on the waves without structural damage."

"We're here," Sherlock observed, "Time to put on the meat suit."

"I wish you wouldn't phrase it like that," Mycroft sighed. 

Shadow Onyx hovered over the Drake Passage on its anti-gravity pods. She pulled the Kaiju carcass open and pulled it around herself, hiding herself within it. "Here we go, then," Mycroft said as they descended into the frigid water, "Once more unto the breach."

They descended for several moments in silence before Sherlock said, "This is our first trip, how can it be 'once more?'"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Sherlock!"

"You're the one who started quoting Captain Bligh."

_A burst of incredulity_ "It's Shakespeare!" _swamped by a wave of smug amusement and a decided sense of 'gotcha'_ Mycroft shook his head, "Do you think you could ever act like a grown-up?"

"Not if the example is you."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"When was the last time you had any **fun** , Mycroft?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, we're on an espionage mission, this is not the time to be discussing 'fun.'"

"We're in a giant robot."

"Which is wrapped in a Kaiju carcass so we can get through the breach."

"In our giant robot."

"Good lord, was that a **squid?** "

"That squid's bigger than our giant robot."

"It might be bigger than your ego."

"It's not bigger than your appetite."

They peered down into the breach then pulled the Kaiju carcass tighter around Shadow Onyx and leaped. "How big of a conniption do you suppose John is going to have?" Mycroft asked as they descended. 

"I've gone off without him again -- probably a category 5."

* * * * 

Which is about when a small category 5 hurricane blew into Atalanta's lab and demanded to know, "Where is he?!"

"Breach," Lani answered simply, after a moment's pause.

John gaped, "But... Phoenix Majesty's still docked! And who's he got to Drift with?! He's not Drifting alone, is he?"

"He's with Mycroft in Shadow Onyx."

The air turned blue and John howled, "He's bloody well left me behind again! We had an agreement! I'm supposed to go with him! He needs back-up!"

"Ah, well... That's **why** he left you behind," Lani explained, "You **are** back-up, Doctor Watson, and your secondary co-pilot has volunteered. We need you to stand by and be ready to deploy."

John nodded, numbly. "So.. I'm going to the Drake Base then?"

Lani shook her head, "We think at least one more breach has opened up. Based on the pattern of the most recent attacks, we suspect one in the Atlantic. My boys have gone to confirm it, as well as pick up any intel they can find. If they come back, we don't know where they'll emerge."

* * * * 

_"'Heeeeere, breachy breachy breachy...'"_

_"...What?"_

Sherlock smiled a little, _"I'm pretty certain that's what John would be saying right about now."_

_"I don't know how you put up with him,"_ Mycroft chuckled. 

_"It's a fair question, I suppose. Most people wonder how **he** puts up with **me** , but really, he's just as difficult to live with. That's why Stamford brought us together in the first place."_

_"Yes, he's particularly tedious whenever you're out on a case without him. Always ringing people up and asking if they need any help."_ The disdain in Mycroft's mental voice and the flickers of memory made Sherlock chuckle under his breath.

Abruptly Mycroft's memory flicked to his first time meeting John. It was only for a moment, but in that moment, Sherlock saw how quickly John had switched from befuddled doctor to military survivor, analysing and categorising Mycroft, Mycroft's surprise at realising that John had recognised him for what he was yet all the anxiety had left him, the sounds of traffic and shifting feet, the smells of petrol, concrete, leather and men's cologne _"I always wondered what it was like in your mind,"_ Sherlock commented, _"Remembering literally everything, down to the smallest detail. I could even read the license plates."_

_"Well, now you know,"_ Mycroft said lightly. _"Over there. I think that's something we're looking for."_

_"I know what we're not seeing -- very many Progenitors. Where is everybody?"_

_"Not a question that makes me feel at ease,"_ Mycroft agreed, _"I'd expect they're all gathered at the new breach."_ Shadow Onyx bumped her Kaiju cloak casually into the console and they spent a few minutes working out which computer interface system was required. 

_"Where did she get all of this stuff?"_

A memory of the London conference flicked up, where Mycroft had met delegates from several worlds, as well as his own counterpart from Earth. _"There are quite a lot of different technologies now and a lot of trade, but much of it has come from Earth. They knew the Progenitors had tried to colonise Earth during the time of the dinosaurs but it wasn't just the environment that thwarted them. They were also driven back by the indigenous sapients of the time."_

_"Yes, why are they called Silurians? There wasn't even any land life in that period, they barely even had fish!"_ Sherlock commented as they attempted to hack the system. 

_"Yes, I suspect the name was attached by someone with a highly lubricated grasp of geologic timekeeping._

_"Try the Golden Ratio?"_

_"Ah, you noticed that as well."_

_"Although if they're anything like humanity, it'll be 'Franky35.'"_

_"Golden Ratio - well done. You've gotten very good at hacking, Sherlock."_

_"Really, I'm disappointed. Humans are far more imaginative with their passcodes."_

_"'Franky35' is imaginative?"_

_"Compared to the Golden Ratio, it is. When the entire place is clearly designed around it?"_

_"So very true."_

_"Also, I believe we have attracted some attention."_

They watched, apprehensive, as several Kaiju peered at them from their containments. One of them stretched its neck out, not quite able to touch. _"I suppose it isn't common for Kaiju to hang out at the computer stations."_

_"They share a hive mind; probably they're wondering why this one isn't answering,"_ Sherlock agreed. 

_"I think I've got something."_

_"Good, because I think we'd better leave."_ Several Progenitor guards were approaching cautiously. Shadow Onyx turned and glided purposefully away. Every now and then she bumped into walls and objects, dipping out a cloaked finger or a toe. She drifted around a corner and joined the ranks of other Kaiju moving into a corridor. 

_"This has to be the right direction,"_ Sherlock observed, _"A **lot** of Kaiju attacked the North Atlantic cities. These are massing for an invasion."_ The corridor opened out into an enormous cavern. _"There."_

_"We'll try to slip through,"_ Mycroft nodded, though he shared his brother's unease. There were Kaiju all around them now, staring at them. _"Quickly. It's only a matter of time before--"_

One of them reached out and sank its claws into the dead Kaiju, peeling it open. It peered into the empty abdominal cavern and grunted suspiciously. It reached a searching claw into the cavity and Sherlock jerked his leg away just in time. _"Come on, before it_ \--OW BLAST IT!" he yelled, as it found Shadow Onyx's leg and pulled, the sensations transmitted to Sherlock. He powered up his plasmacaster, "Get ready to move!"

He shot the beast right in the eye and Mycroft engaged the thrusters, propelling them upwards towards the new breach. "The cloak is starting to fluctuate."

"Bit of a moot point, now, I suspect."

Mycroft looked up. "Oh blast... There's more of them."

"Get your missiles ready," Sherlock said, aiming his plasmacaster, "Just hold onto that Kaiju or we're never getting home." They fired. Spraying missiles and plasma, Shadow Onyx dove into the breach. 

* * * * 

"Colonel Jenkins, we're picking up a signal in the Mid-Atlantic Ridge."

Tyree came over and peered over the technician's shoulder, "Kaiju?"

The technician shook his head, "N--yyyes... That is, we're picking up a lot of Kaiju readings but the signal seems to be coming from a Jaeger."

"That's them. JAEGERS, MOBILISE!" Tyree bellowed. 

Captain Harkness saluted and spun on his heel, striding down the halls towards Captain Watson's quarters. "They're coming," he said when John opened the door, "It's the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. We've picked up their distress signal."

"Bloody hell.. Sherlock," John breathed. 

* * * *

There were hundreds of them, they were gaining, and there was still a long way to go. "Do you think we're desperate enough for one of those experimental weapons?"

Mycroft looked at the gaining crowds of giant monsters then back at the long distance to the far side of the breach. "How desperate are you to see John again?" Sherlock was silent but Mycroft felt his apprehension through the Drift. "Oh. He knows?"

"He says it won't 'harm our friendship,'" Sherlock said in a low voice. 

Mycroft's sympathy washed gently over Sherlock's bitter disbelief. "It's a cruel joke, isn't it, to fall in love with a straight man." 

Sherlock shot him a look, then a memory flashed out of Mycroft's mind and he nodded in silent understanding. "They're gaining on us," he said instead, looking back at the Kaiju, "If we're going to choose a weapon, we should do it soon."

"I suspect I know what 'Hado Ho' does."

Sherlock sternly resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Of course she would," he sighed, "The original took several minutes to power up, though."

"Yes, but this is Mummy's version -- she knew we likely wouldn't **have** several minutes."

"Let's try it, then," Sherlock sighed, "She'd be terribly disappointed if she only invented a **wave motion gun** for us and we didn't even try it."

Shadow Onyx slowed and turned to face the way she had come. Mycroft engaged the Hado Ho controls and the massive machine lurched and hummed as the power of its tsunami engine was redirected. Her chest slid apart, revealing a yawning cavity, glowing dimly through the gap in the Kaiju flesh. His mind briefly flickered to the memory of Atalanta bursting into the lab, gibbering with brainstorm. _"How much do you want to bet that this is what she was inventing?"_

_"Not a penny,"_ Sherlock agreed, _"'Project the stream laterally so it takes a cyclonic spin?' Almost certainly this is what she was working out."_

The tsunami engine shook as its power burst out of Shadow Onyx and screamed into the hoardes of Kaiju. The recoil blasted Shadow Onyx backwards through the breach, shredding her Kaiju cloak. Then the explosion cleared and showed them the devastation. "Er... I think it worked."

"We're not dead yet and they are, I'd call that a successful experiment," Sherlock said faintly.

"I suppose it's too much to hope that that might have ended this."

"Possibly. It sent them a message, though."

Still propelled by the recoil momentum, Shadow Onyx shot out into the sudden deep pressures of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge and climbed, her distress beacon cranked to full volume. "The hull is damaged but holding," Mycroft reported, "We've lost the cloak and the dead Kaiju."

"I'd say if you want another one, take your pick, but there aren't many left to choose from."

Shadow Onyx continued to rise up from the abyss. Abruptly she shuddered as something slammed into her. "What was that? Did we run into something or did something run into us?"

"Lamps on," Mycroft said. They both froze in shock. "...Tell me that was a squid."

"That wasn't a squid." Shadow Onyx lurched again as the Kaiju slammed into it, scrabbling for her head. "I thought we'd blasted them all?"

"We knew some had already gone through," Mycroft said grimly, "These ones must have been ahead of us." Another bodyslam shook the machine. Shadow Onyx fought to throw it off, sinking her claws into it, seeking its eyes, still rising through the water. She punched repeatedly and discharged her plasmacaster, kicking at the monster as they broke through into the sunlight and rose into the air, sounding. 

Another Jaeger answered her. Then Phoenix Majesty slammed her fists into the Kaiju, tearing it away from Shadow Onyx. 

**"JOHN!"**

"You bloody, bloody bastard!" John's voice hollared over the comm, "When we get back, you and I are having Words!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John have Words.

"You and I are having Words, Sherlock Holmes!" John screamed over the commlink.

"Fine, but can I point out that that wasn't the only Kaiju?"

"And that one isn't dead," Mycroft felt obliged to add. 

"I'm aware of that!" the commlink crackled. The Kaiju breached up out of the water and Phoenix Majesty slammed her rocket-assisted fists into it. 

"Who's with you?" Sherlock asked, "Surely you're not trying to pilot that thing alone?!"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes! Both of you!"

"Captain Harkness! Very good of you to assist John."

"A chance to fight monsters in the giant robot with the famous Doctor Watson - I ran over everybody else with cleats on," Captain Harkness laughed. 

"Just the same, I'll prefer to have you back, Sherlock," John added, "Your mind is much less interesting."

There was a pause. "I think I'm insulted."

"It's really **not** an insult."

"I think **I'm** insulted!"

"Really not an insult!" John grinned at Jack. 

"Another Kaiju is approaching," Mycroft observed and glanced at his brother, "I recall Mummy took some time to install another experimental extra onto our Jaeger; shall we see what it does?" 

Sherlock nodded. Shadow Onyx drew the baton from her back and balanced on her anti-gravity pods. It was the right proportion for a jo, though it appeared to have other functionalities. The Kaiju roared up out of the water, clawing at Onyx, and she strode forward to ram the baton under the Kaiju and flip it with its own momentum. She turned back-to-back with Phoenix Majesty, who had her claws extended. 

The Kaiju leaped. Both Jaegers darted forward to meet the charges, both discharging their plasmacasters. Phoenix Majesty bowed against the onslaught of the great beast and was braced up against Shadow Onyx who grappled with her own attacker, rapidly oscillating the baton against its head. Then smoke billowed out of the baton and the Kaiju screamed. 

"A smoke screen!" John cried, "That's brilliant!"

"Whatever this chemical is, they don't like it," Jack agreed. 

The smoke began to clear. Still protesting and pawing at their eyes, the Kaiju looked around but there was no sign of the Jaegers. They paddled on the ocean surface, suspicious, but all was quiet. Finally, they began to swim away. 

Then they screamed as Phoenix Majesty dropped out of the sky, still cloaked, plunging her claws deeply into a Kaiju's neck. At the same time, the ocean boiled as Shadow Onyx burst up beneath the other Kaiju, heaving it bodily out of the water before discharging her plasmacaster into its belly. The remaining Kaiju thrashed against Phoenix Majesty's claws, then vomited forth a gush of acid. Mycroft touched a control and the panels on Onyx's baton expanded into a shield. 

"Oh that is **not** a weaponised umbrella!" John protested over Captain Harkness's laughter as Phoenix pulled her claws out of the dead Kaiju. 

"It would certainly seem to be," Mycroft chuckled, "Apparently Mummy decided to outfit us with a weapon with which we were both familiar."

"It looks silly," Sherlock sided with John.

"Cardiff says that's all of them," Captain Jack reported.

"Then we should return."

* * * *

"Swab every part of Shadow Onyx, especially the hands and the feet," Sherlock called as they disembarked, "Hopefully not all of the samples I collected will have washed away. Whatever you collect, take it to Doctor Hooper in the K-Science lab." 

John fell into step beside them as they strode down the hall. It said something about him, Sherlock thought, that John was actually able to keep up with the longer-legged Holmes brothers... but exactly what it said, he wasn't sure. They walked in silence through the halls, down the lifts and into the dormitory levels. "Do you two need a moment?" John asked quietly. 

The brothers looked at each other with identical inscrutable expressions, then looked away. "I think.. we need some time to contemplate what we've seen, separately, first," Mycroft managed. 

John nodded in sympathy and bid him goodnight. Then he closed the door to their own room and looked at Sherlock, "How about you? You'll need your violin."

"You'll want to 'talk,'" Sherlock said sourly. 

"Yes," John nodded, handing him the instrument, "I've had a chance to think and a chance to talk a bit and I've come to a few conclusions."

"Spare me," Sherlock huffed, rolling his eyes. 

John grinned as he made tea, "Nope, I don't think I shall."

"John, you know what I believe about 'love,'" Sherlock practically snarled the word, "I've always felt it was a defect of the losing side. The Woman proved that out." He took the cup John offered him and added as an afterthought, "As did Moriarty."

The teaspoon clattered to the counter. "Whatever that maniac felt for you, it bloody well was **not** love," John said, exasperated, "Well it just seems to me it's also present on the winning side, or what else kept you motivated to see Moriarty's deconstruction to completion? Or brought you back to me? 'Just the two of us against the rest of the world,' hmm?" Sherlock said nothing but John recognised his sour expression and grinned, then laid his hand on Sherlock's knee, "And what else kept me from doing what I should have done and putting a bullet in myself? Hm? Or keeps me jumping into giant robots to go after you when you've broken your promise AGAIN and gone off without me?"

"I wasn't alone and I needed you to stay as back-up."

"Yes but you could have **told me** first, is what I'm saying." John sighed and pushed his hand through his greying hair, "And this is us sounding like an old married couple, again, just like everybody says."

"Unlike everybody says, we're not," Sherlock pointed out. John thought he could detect just the slightest hint of bitterness. "And unlike everybody says, I appear to be the only one who's ever respected your oft-spoken assertation of heterosexuality."

"Don't think I haven't noticed," John agreed. He sipped his tea and shook his head, "Do you know, they don't even have that word anymore? There's no words for gay or straight or any of that, they lost that vocabulary. People don't even have husbands or wives anymore, they have spouses."

Sherlock curled a disbelieving lip, "No more prejudices? How idyllic."

John burst into giggling. "Not quite," he said, "Just instead of worrying about race and gender, now they're worrying about species. There was a bit of trouble when the Silurians reappeared but the conservatives seem to have settled into thinking along the lines of 'At least they're from the same planet.'"

Sherlock chuckled then took another sip of tea before asking, "Just what are you saying, then, John? You want a shag, is that it? Grown weary of constant rejection by the women you pick up?"

"There's no need to be like that," John said, far more gently than he might have done had he not Drifted with Sherlock and seen what his friend had kept hidden for years. "If that was something you wished to try then maybe we could work something out." Sherlock huffed more out of habit than anything else, making John smile. "Mainly, it's just... well, we were thinking about that cottage in Sussex, already. I guess I've realised it isn't just convenience that keeps me spending my life with you."

Sherlock looked almost mollified for an instant, then, "Then what was the **point** to this, John?"

"The **point** , is that I've also figured out why you've always gotten me to fish your mobile out of your jacket pocket which you were wearing, you great shy git," John chuckled. He got up and leaned over Sherlock, who froze as John's lips touched his for just a moment. "That's the point," he said softly, "You're so stand-offish, it's taken me all these years to realise you were inviting me."

Sherlock blushed. "Yes, well.. You were never the most observant man," he huffed, deflecting. 

John chuckled and brushed his fingers across Sherlock's curls, "Come on, you silly git, let's get some nosh and then some sleep. I know you haven't eaten anything and you've got an adrenaline crash coming." He took Sherlock's hand to lift him up. 

Sherlock was still reluctant. "John... You know I don't do relationships. That's not my area."

"And yet you've managed just fine with me for how long now?" John grinned.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mycroft and Sherlock learn they'd got it all wrong.

Sherlock had spent most of the night curled around John, listening to the rain and the rasp of John's breath. His mind was unsettled, whirling between the talk with John and the memories he had seen in the Drift. He'd been able to push them aside, focusing on the Kaiju battles, rescuing Mycroft, and stealing Shadow Onyx, but now... 

Now he lay awake, snuggled in John's bed, with John sound asleep in his arms. (He'd been apprehensive at first, due to John's tendency towards nightmares, but it seemed his presence was soothing.) Now John had initiated a more physical, though not sexual, intimacy. Now they truly were a couple and Sherlock had never felt like more of a failure because of the memory he'd seen in John's mind. 

He'd been wrong. Sherlock did not take being wrong well. He'd been wrong, so horribly wrong, and in doing so he'd failed the most important person in his life. It was he who was the idiot. It was he who was stupid, not Anderson. ...no, Anderson was still stupid. It was he who couldn't read the evidence properly, it was he who'd cocked it up. Really, his sole consolation here was that he didn't cock it up nearly as often as Anderson. But cocked it up he had, and the cost...

He lay with John a little longer then gave up and got out of bed. He pulled on his dressing gown and shuffled down to the K-Science lab to check on his cultures, hoping that if he buried himself in work, it might distract him from his failure. It wasn't detective work (did he have any business doing detective work now?) but searching for a suitable microbe was an acceptable alternative for now (what if he cocked that up too?) 

"That is a great retro look!"

Sherlock smiled thinly in reply. Fashions had changed considerably; his crisp suit was as out of place now as a gugel and poulaines would have been in the 21st Century. Changes in political and economic dominance had affected culture and clothing in turn; fashions now were a great deal more relaxed, more akin to ao dai, dashiki suits and shalwar kameez than the tailored suits and crisp shirts he'd left behind. Mycroft had been slightly perturbed to observe chancellors wearing what appeared to be navy pin-striped pyjamas, which passed for a formal suit nowadays. Sherlock did not look out of place at all in his flannel pyjama bottoms and t-shirt. 

That was another thing -- he was fitting in. He really wasn't sure what to make of that. It had never happened before so it wasn't part of his comfort zone and he wasn't sure what to do with it. He hadn't changed but etiquette and expectations had. People weren't as put off by his blunt manner, though he got on best with the Silurians. 

"Heyyyy, Stupid Monkey! Why you awake so early?"

And with Braithwaite. That was a surprise. 

"I was hoping to get some work done before you sucked all of the oxygen out of the lab with your inanities," Sherlock replied, unable to suppress a little smile as Braithwaite huffed the bellows that indicated ze was laughing. 

Their first few meetings had been awkward. After first introductions, the creature had insulted his intelligence and Sherlock had fired right back with some of his best one-liners to cover his shock. It took a few more exchanges before Braithwaite realised that Sherlock had never met an Argolian before. It turned out ze had thought he was zir new friend. Things smoothed out after a few explanations and Sherlock quickly learned to appreciate Braithwaite's contributions. The Argolian had different senses, including seeing into the ultraviolet, which turned out to be quite complementary and very useful. "Braithwaite," he called, "I'm comparing these two cultures. Do you see any differences?"

The Argolian ambled over to look. Ze scrutinised the samples for several minutes before announcing, "This one, turned sprrrl with flecks of rrrhzght."

"Those colours mean nothing to me," Sherlock said levelly. 

"That because you Stupid Monkey," Braithwaite teased, "Yes, different, these two. This one changed."

" **I** don't set myself on fire," Sherlock teased back. While the Argolian's spectral vision included ultraviolet colours, ze couldn't perceive anything below the yellows. Orange and red were as invisible and meaningless to zir as sprrrl and rrrhzght were to Sherlock, but so was infrared - ze couldn't feel heat, which made zir a bit of a danger around Bunsen burners. "Alright, let me know if either of these samples show any changes."

"Hyah sure, is no problem," Braithwaite chuckled. 

Sherlock bent over his work. After a while, he felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up. "Braithwaite!" he called, "Why did you let my great overblown prat of a brother in here?"

"I think ze come make lab less ugly," Braithwaite chortled.

"If you want to beautify the lab, leave," Sherlock shot back, grinning, "This is my brother Mycroft, he's male. This is Braithwaite, ze's an Argolian. Ze says ze's female now but could change to male at any time within the year."

"Not get any younger," Braithwaite agreed as ze ambled past. 

"Really, Sherlock," Mycroft hissed under his breath, "Was that necessary?"

Sherlock's eyes twinkled, "Yes, actually. Braithwaite's culture believes that compliments attract bad luck, so they have a ritual exchange of insults."

Mycroft blinked. "That sounds like you'd fit in just fine."

"I do," Sherlock chuckled, "Ze thinks I'm very friendly. All those years with Anderson have paid off. If an Argolian says something nice about somebody, that person's name is mud."

"And are you being friendly?"

"I introduced zir first off," Sherlock replied, "Braithwaite is tolerable." 

Mycroft nodded then glanced hesitantly at his brother. He wasn't very good at this; neither of them were. "You're agitated. Something has you very upset. It did not go well with John?"

Suddenly Sherlock became very busy with his microscope. "It went fine with John," he deflected, "John is comfortable with our arrangement and does not wish to terminate it."

Mycroft actually sighed with relief. "Something else, then. Really, Sherlock, something this obvious is likely to affect your work--*" 

Sherlock slapped his palms to the worktop, cutting his brother off. "I think I know why Mummy has been avoiding talking to us," he said slowly. Abruptly he grabbed Mycroft's sleeve and dragged him down the corridor to an empty Quiet Room. After triggering the privacy lock, he blurted, "We were wrong!"

"About what?"

"It was in John's memory, I saw it when we Drifted for the attack on London. John talked to Mummy! She didn't commit suicide!"

"Well, obviously," Mycroft said, rolling his eyes, "Obviously Captain Harkness collected her, that's why she disappeared."

"That's **not** why she disappeared, he collected her **after** she disappeared, Mycroft, _she was kidnapped!_ "

Mycroft sank slowly to a couch and let his head fall into his hands. "Oh god," he whispered, "Oh god..." He glanced up, sheepish, "I... knew Daddy hadn't been killed in that car accident. I worked it out years later. He was already dead, though I never worked out who killed him."

"Whomever they were, they went after Mummy next."

"...oh god..."

"We were wrong. We misread all of the evidence. We were **stupid** , fucking **Anderson** would have done a better job than we did!"

Mycroft didn't stop Sherlock from yanking his hair nor did he stop him from punching the wall. He himself felt like slamming his head against the wall, overwhelmed by the implications. "We believed what we were told," he realised, "Instead of looking objectively." He shook himself and tried for reason, "But Sherlock, we were both much less experienced than we are now..."

" ** _This is what I do!_** " Sherlock hollared, "I've been observing my entire **life** , it's what I **do!** She would have counted on me! How long did she wait, believing I would read the signs and we would find her? _And that didn't happen_ because I was **stupid** and didn't look at it **correctly**!"

Mycroft scrubbed his hands over his face. The fall-out from his own overconfidence with Moriarty had been devastating; he couldn't blame Sherlock for believing himself responsible. He was right; they'd both misread the evidence, putting too much faith in what they'd been told about their mother's depression and tendency to wander and letting that colour their interpretation of what they saw. "I wonder how long she was a prisoner?"

"Does it matter? We failed her. We didn't just fail to find her, we didn't even **look**."

"We searched," Mycroft corrected, "But in the wrong places because we were going on a false assumption, oh god... That _would_ explain why she's avoiding us. She must have thought she didn't matter."

"Whomever planned that operation did not plan Daddy's."

"No, certainly not. Extended business trips were not unusual for Daddy and the car accident occured on his way back from the airport. We didn't have any reason to suspect. Whomever planned Mummy's was much clumsier." They both fell silent with the realisation, the weights of hindsight and guilt pressing in.

"What do we do now?"

Mycroft raked his hands through his thinning hair and sighed heavily. "I don't know."

* * * *

They stood in the corridor, dressed in their antiquated suits, and Mycroft was mildly amused to note that Sherlock had flipped his coat collar up, as if would armour him for what they had to do. But he had no right to judge; he himself was clutching his umbrella as a child might clutch a teddy bear. Then the door slid open and they stepped into the office. 

There were diagrams and mindmaps all over the walls and on every computer display. She stood in the centre of it all, her back to the door, sipping tea. Mycroft drew in a breath to nerve himself. "Good morning, Mummy." Her only answer was to tip her head slightly towards him over her shoulder. "May we talk?"

Atalanta lifted her hand to her ear and signed, 'Listening.' Sherlock winced. 

"We've.. come to apologise."

"I got it wrong," Sherlock blurted. 

"We believed that you had taken your own life," Mycroft explained, unable to keep a pleading note out of his voice, "We searched the river, the woods... We looked for you for years but we were acting on an incorrect interpretation."

"The fault is mine."

"It is not solely yours, Sherlock, I didn't question any further."

'Enough!' Lani signed abruptly. She turned and glared at them, 'Leave. I'm not finished.'

Mycroft nodded sadly and they turned away. The door slid shut and they were halfway down the hall before they heard the sounds of objects breaking. Sherlock's steps speeded up and before long he had far outpaced his brother. 

Mycroft sighed heavily and fought the urge to go Kaiju on some cupcakes. 

* * * *

John returned from the canteen to find Sherlock on his chair. He was hugging his knees to his chest, resting his forehead on them - not for the first time, John wondered how such a tall man could curl into such a small ball of detective. He paused and considered Sherlock for a moment. Curled up, emanating waves of distress, hair dishevelled and torn from repeated vigorous yanking - Sherlock seldom got this upset unless he'd been wrong in a way that had extreme consequences. There were no cases to investigate and it was too early the Kaiju microbiology project to have any results, so there was only one thing John could think of that would have Sherlock this upset. "Talked to your Mum, then, I take it?"

Sherlock's head snapped up and he stared at John, then the barest ghost of a smile twitched his lip, "You've gotten better." He put his head back down. "She told us to leave," he said finally, "I have never been more wrong."

John nodded sadly, "Yeah, I.. had talked to her, earlier, and she told me some things that were quite different from what you knew. I was wondering how to tell you. I knew you wouldn't take it well." He hesitated for a moment then pulled his chair over next to Sherlock's and reached out to stroke his fingers through Sherlock's curls. 

After several minutes, Sherlock whispered "I got it wrong, John. I got it completely wrong. She was counting on me and I got it wrong." John said nothing - he knew better now. "And this wasn't some random client, this is **_my mother!_** My mother was counting on me to figure it out and find her and I let her down, John, I failed _my own mother._ "

John continued to say nothing for several minutes, still stroking Sherlock's hair. Eventually he said, "You said she told you to leave; what did you do?"

"We went to apologise. We explained why we thought she had taken her own life. We looked for her but we weren't looking in the right places because I fucking got it _wrong._ " 

John pulled him into an awkward embrace across the chairs, as Sherlock's breath hitched into dry sobs, though he did not cry. "She struck me as being a lot like you," he said.

"Everyone said we were much alike," Sherlock sniffed. He uncurled a bit to wrap his arm around John's knees. "This is much like that case in America. The woman never did speak to her family again."

"A bit different," John said conscienciously, "Her family never looked for her nor registered a missing-persons report; you did. Your Mum'll need to process that for a bit, that's all." Sherlock said nothing. After a moment, he slid off the chair onto the floor and laid his head in John's lap. "This alright then?" John asked gently, still stroking Sherlock's hair. Sherlock just nodded. "Well, you've explained and apologised," John sighed, "I think the best thing to do now is just to use the heck out of your mother's inventions and show her you're proud that she's your Mum."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is an antiquated BAMF. Sherlock is an antiquated consulting detective. Mycroft is... we're not sure what, anymore.

The Kaiju screamed, its skeleton silhouetted through its flesh as the satellite cannon's beam struck it. Power Nascent leaped back and turned to assist Gladiator Jade, sinking his saws into the other Kaiju's body. Io Frontier sounded as a third Kaiju rose from the water. The Jaeger slammed his fists together in his signature taunt then rushed at the Kaiju, spitting missiles. Phoenix Majesty and Opal Caster held the Miracle Mile, grappling with a fourth Kaiju that had slipped through while its fellows distracted the main guard.

The strategy was Mycroft's work and it was a good one. It took full advantage of the interchangeable weapons pod system to provide suitable cover while the satellite cannons recharged. Captain Watson matched complementary fighting styles, forming Jaeger teams that were much more powerful than the sum of their parts. Phoenix slashed off the Kaiju's tails then heaved it up as Opal slammed his rocket-assisted skewers into its brain. Their power systems fluctuated momentarily as one of the Kaiju further out discharged an electro-magnetic pulse organ in an effort to knock out the Jaegers - but then they were back online and converging on the Kaiju before they'd fully realised what had happened. It was only for a moment but the moment was just enough. 

**"NASCENT!"**

Sherlock heard John's scream of horror as the Kaiju leaped onto Power Nascent's chest while the Jaeger was momentarily disabled, destablising it enough to knock it into the water. Then they were running. Sherlock yielded as John's thoughts took over entirely, focused on urgency. They were both sprinters and Phoenix Majesty was designed to take advantage of that. They also had rockets. Phoenix slammed into the Kaiju with everything she had, knocking it back for Gladiator Jade to finish. 

_"Dive."_

Phoenix dove, her anti-gravity pods propelling her down towards the rapidly-sinking Power Nascent, following the stream of bubbles that the stricken Jaeger left in her wake - too many. 

_"Hull is breached."_

_"Get the conn pod."_ Phoenix reached out and seized the Jaeger's head, twisting to decouple it from the body.

_"Rise."_

_"Bends?"_

_"They're drowning anyways."_ Phoenix got her feet underneath her, repositioning her anti-gravity pods, and rose through the water with Power Nascent's head tucked underneath her arm. 

_"...She walks the bloody tower?"_ John burst into giggles. 

Sherlock grinned, "Not good?"

"Hilarious," John agreed, "A bit Anne Boleyn."

Phoenix surfaced and turned the head of Nascent in her hands, tipping out the water. The bay doors in her chest swung open as she popped open Nascent's escape hatch. "Nascent, can you hear me?" John called into the comm. No answer.

"Initiating override," Sherlock said as he touched the controls, "Power Nascent, initiate emergency evacuation protocol."

_"Evacuation initiating,"_ the machine's UI replied. 

"Prepare pods for immediate emergency medical intervention."

_"Acknowledged. Initiating medical protocol. Pilot One ejection in 5..4..3.."_

Phoenix caught the pod and clutched it to her chest, then repeated with the second pilot pod. "Pods installed. Emergency drowning protocols initiating, stasis initiating, bends process initiated." After a few tense moments he announced, "Pilots stablised."

Their comm crackled and the voice of Sasha Kaidonovsky announced, "All Kaiju eliminated, Captain. Gladiator Jade reports Abheer has sustained a shoulder injury but can return to the Shatterdome under his own power."

"Don't worry about me, Captain, I can wait," Abheer agreed, "Take care of Alison and Tamir." Phoenix didn't hesitate any longer but keyed up her tsunami engine as she launched into a sprint then vaulted into the air. The medics were waiting for them when they arrived at the Shatterdome and opening Phoenix's medical bay doors. Then they settled Phoenix into her hangar and John wasted no time in disengaging. 

They strode together down the halls and John only gradually became aware of a sense of admiration. Abruptly he realised that it was Sherlock and that they were ghost-Drifting. He glanced at his friend, who had to jerk his chin back as it sought to mirror the motion. But he couldn't help but echo Sherlock's smile. 

"I'm not used to being the sidekick," Sherlock murmured but his smile was fond, "The army were fools to have retired you simply because of an injury. You do amazing work, John." John flushed under the praise, suddenly realising how it was for Sherlock. 

They strode together down to the medical ward to check on Power Nascent's pilots, then checked on Abheer from Gladiator Jade. Then John turned toward Sherlock. They were still ghost-Drifting and he relished the faint sensation of still being so connected to his friend. He visualised walking together through Cardiff, then he remembered they weren't in headspace and Sherlock couldn't hear him, that he would have to use his voice. "Want to go out for a walk?"

Sherlock nodded, his gaze just as intense. "We could both use a new wardrobe."

"That's a good excuse," John agreed. 

* * * * 

It gleamed, silent and sleek, all thunder grey lines and forest green fletchings. Shadow Onyx still hadn't been officially deployed, though with the loss of Power Nascent, he had no doubt it would be. 

"Do we have to get you trained as a pilot?" Mycroft turned to see Atalanta standing behind him, her arms crossed over the fitted gown that flowed down over loose trousers. "What are you thinking this time?"

"The computers are taking a dashed long time to find what Sherlock is looking for. I... was wondering if it might be possible to Drift with them."

"With the computer system? Why?"

Mycroft shrugged, "I know what Sherlock is looking for."

Lani looked up at the Jaeger speculatively, "Worth a try. Not through Shadow Onyx, though. You'd want the neural handshake directly with the system, you don't want to run the risk through a machine that can echo your movements."

"Probably not, no."

"Come on, then," Atalanta spun decisively on her heel. Mycroft followed her, wondering what she had planned. 

* * * *

"I'm sorry."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "For the tenth time, John, _I know._ Just leave it."

"I just.. I had no idea..."

"I know that."

"I had no idea it would hurt you so much."

"I know that."

"I'm... I just..."

" _ **John.**_ "

They walked down the street, clad in their new garments. Sherlock, of course, looked gorgeous in his new fitted tunic of aubergine quilted sateen cotton, flowing over soft trousers that skimmed his legs. John, however... "I feel like I'm wearing pyjamas."

"Well, they are related," Sherlock grinned, "Pyjamas have their origin in the British occupation of India so not really a surprise."

_No,_ John reflected. Nor should it have been a surprise to see Sherlock's memories of John's wedding day. It had been a happy day for John, blissfully unaware of the depth of his best friend's feelings for him. For Sherlock, watching the man he loved marry someone else, knowing that John's eyes would never look at him in that way in any case, it had been a torturous endurance. 

" **John!** "

"Sorry, sorry..."

"No, John, look! - That's a crime scene!"

"You realise they probably _aren't_ going to let you snoop about," John said rhetorically as he followed his excited friend. As he expected, Sherlock completely disregarded him as he strode up to the officer who appeared to be in charge. 

And startled only slightly as she turned, revealing a pleasant face covered in scales. "Off limits," she said. 

"Yes, I know," Sherlock replied, "But I couldn't help but notice the smell."

"Smell?"

"Yes, and a sort of taste in the air. It's strong here but I first noticed it back there."

Her head snapped around to face him directly, "Really. A.. taste, you say?" She glanced at her human officers, who shrugged with baffled expressions, then looked back at Sherlock, "Show me."

Sherlock led them back the way he and John had arrived and pointed at a window, "The smell ends here, but the taste..." He pressed onwards up the street then gestured towards a door, "Seems to be originating from around here."

John stepped up and down the street, breathing through his mouth to taste the air. "Yeah. Yes, it does disappear after here. A sort of metallic sort of taste, yeah? A bit like blood? I thought I'd bit my lip a bit, to be quite honest. I didn't really register it until you'd mentioned it."

The officer in charge called some of her assistants over and started them swabbing the doorway. After a few moments, the human officers agreed that yes, they could taste an extremely faint metallic tang in the air, but like John, hadn't really registered it. She turned back to Sherlock, "And yet you noticed it."

"I notice almost everything," Sherlock replied, "But in this case, I don't know what it means."

"What's your name, mis?"

"Holmes. Sherlock Holmes, and this is my friend, Doctor John Watson."

Everything stopped. Everyone dropped what they were doing and stared. Then the whispers started. "Could it really be them?" "Anyone can fall through the Rift." "I was just at the museum last month, I saw pictures." "I heard rumours they're in the Jaeger program."

"My cousin is a Jaeger mechanic," the officer in charge said slowly, "He told me that Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson were pilots. The **real** Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson."

"I imagine there've been a few fakes by now," Sherlock said stiffly. Only John recognised that he was confused and didn't know what to expect.

"Sherlock Holmes, the great detective, as I live and breathe," the officer said. Abruptly she bowed, "Detective Inspector Hastur of Under Anglia, Mis Holmes. Welcome to Cardiff. The smell is the discharge residue from a Brymer beam-gun. Carlos..!" An officer hurried up with a wicked-looking gun locked in evidence stasis. "We suspected that this was a decoy, that there was a second weapon involved."

"Brimshot," a technician announced, looking up from a screen. She turned it to show a tiny weapon, easily hidden in a sleeve or palm.

DI Hastur's eyes opened in surprise, "A Brimshot? How very interesting."

"A sniper's weapon," John observed.

"Snipers and assassins, yes. I've never heard of a Brimshot leaving a sensory-perceivable discharge residue."

"Clearly they do," Sherlock said, "But one that just about everybody is too unobservant to notice."

"Sherlock has much sharper senses than do most peop-humans," John corrected himself, "And much stronger powers of observation. As he says, he notices just about everything."

"Excellent," the detective shook her head, "Simply excellent. I cannot taste it, Mis Holmes," she explained, "Although our sense of smell is sharper, the senses of taste and smell are not as closely linked in Silurians as they are in humans."

"So it's only your human officers who are idiots." Behind him, John winced. 

DI Hastur smiled, "I dare say they'll be more attentive in the future."

"I will also point out that it's nosebleed season, Sherlock," John interjected, "And we **did** all mistake the taste as originating from our own bodies. It's possible that the shooter might have been aware of the taste and the fact that humans don't notice it, and chosen this season to ensure their tracks are covered."

"Which would indicate an alien shooter with a keener sense of taste and an awareness of the average limits of human senses. That narrows the field substantially," the DI nodded. She tipped her head, "Would you be interested in following this investigation, Mis Holmes?"

"Very," Sherlock said immediately, then his posture sagged a bit, "Although I must admit, I'm not sure how much help I will be. I'm from the 21st Century. I don't know about Brymer beam-guns or Brimshots."

Inspector Hastur smiled brightly, "We shall be happy to teach you."

* * * *

"Case!Case!Case!Case!Case!Case!Case!Case!Case!"

Well that was how John translated all of the hyperbabble that Sherlock was spewing out as they walked back to the Shatterdome. He carried all of their shopping and their old clothes, since Sherlock was simply bouncing around too much like an excited puppy. _Haven't seen him like this in years, actually,_ he thought. Once again, he wondered whether they would be returning to their home time period after this. They were antiques here. John's medical knowledge was woefully outdated (though not nearly as much as poor Nicodemus, the plague doctor, had been.) But Nicodemus had thrown himself into learning and was now an effective medic; John could be too, if he so chose. There was really nothing for John to go back to. Harry had died and Mrs. Hudson had moved into a home, Mary was long gone, and Lestrade had an early retirement after a warning shot from a mild heart attack. And Sherlock...

Sherlock was caught between a rock and a hard place. Back in the 21st Century, Sherlock had reached a plateau. He'd learned so much, the cases became easier to solve and it became harder for him to find the challenges he required. Here in the 31st Century, he had no cases at all, but he'd thrown himself into his Kaiju virus research and that was tiding him over. People didn't say 'please and thank you' anymore and they were much more direct, so Sherlock's bluntness wasn't as offensive, and they no longer took another person's intelligence as an insult to themselves. People tolerated him better, even liked him. And now, he'd just proven that he could still be a significant factor in solving a case, and he'd been presented with unlimited new learning opportunities. Sherlock could be poised for rejuvination in the second part of his life and John couldn't not want that.

They walked past the computer lab (John walked; Sherlock bounced) and John stopped dead in his tracks. "Sherlock..." he called. Sherlock came back immediately, drawn by the concern in John's voice. What he saw made his jaw drop open. 

The displays were racing at a phenominal rate. Data were being extracted, posted up, examined, taken down. Encryptions were broken and new information flowed across, data plucked out and set aside, patterns searched for. The computers whined as they were pushed harder than they'd ever worked. Mycroft sat in the middle of it all, skin glazed with sweat, hair tangled in a PONS webbing, his eyes flickering but not seeing them. Most unnerving was his beatific smile.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft goes to some extreme lengths to get the plot moving.
> 
>  
> 
> (look I did warn that it was long and angsty :-P )

Into the Drift...

_"I just hope you're ready for this."_

_"Ready for what?"_

_"Me."_

_PainpainpainpainIfyoucooperatewewillgiveyoufoodDoyounotwishtoeat?painpainpainpain_  
SirwehavealeadonyourbrotherWebelieveheisinSerbia  
thehellisyourproblemSigurd?Myproblemisyou  
ForGod'ssakeSherlock, **putyourclotheson!**  
believeyourdaughterhasapersonalitydisorderElectroconvulsivetherapyistherecommendedcourseoftreatment 

_"What??"_

_painpainpainpainscreamingpainpain_  
Siryourbrotherhasbeencaughtwithaneighthounceofcocaineagain.OhisitTuesdayalready?  
sickdizzygetoutgetoutrunwhathashedonetomerundizzyfallingPAINPAINPAIN  
Mummy?  
Mummyareyouokay? 

_"Oh Jesus Christ..."_

_Mummy'snotfeelingwellGotoyourroomDaddywilltakeMummybacktobedGotoyourroomMycroft  
HisnameisSherlock.SherlockHolmes.He'syournewbabybrother._

"I don't know how he does this so easily," Mycroft gasped, "It's much more difficult than I'd imagined it would be."

"Think you can manage?"

"...Yes."

"Alright then," Lani said, "Initiating neural handshake."

Into the data stream...

_He hadn't been prepared for this not for **this**. He'd expected finer control perhaps much like driving the Jaeger not this **this** was diving feet first into the system itself. His mind taking over assimilating the data interpreting presenting it as visuals and abstracts and smells and sounds extracting patterns finding seeking extrapolating_

_Yes._

_Yes._

_**Yes.** _

_And he laughed because now he knew, he **knew** , and now he understood, falling forward only now did he truly understand_

_Held back, like a tethered balloon._

_"Focus."_

_He tried to fall into the data stream but the tether held him back_

_"Concentrate on the task at hand."_

_He slowed the stream and started wading through it, searching. He knew what he was looking for, selecting a bit here, a byte there, pulling together and discarding._

"I knew it... looking in the wrong areas... These are what he's looking for." _More and more information, extracted, collated, spun about, connections made and broken_ "...Have to get these to Sherlock..."

"Send them to Molly, Mycroft. Mycroft, can you hear me? Send them to Molly. To Molly, Mycroft, send them to Molly. You can send a copy to my desk later."

_He looked up, his little brother's worried face hazy through the visualised data, his precious baby brother, he'd got it wrong for so long._ "I'm sorry," he whispered through a blissful smile, "I didn't know. How would I know? I understand now." _An opening window letting the birds fly through He longed to follow them but the tether held him back_

"John?"

"Have you got enough to go on?"

"Yes, this will help enormously. John, are they...?"

"Doctor Holmes? Doctor Holmes, can you hear me? Atalanta?"

Lani's eyes were closed, brows knit together beneath her PONS webbing as she struggled with an invisible opponent. "He's fighting me," she murmured.

"What? Who is? Who's fighting you?"

"Mycroft," Sherlock answered. He crouched down and took his big brother's sweat-damp face in his palms, "Mycroft, can you hear me?" His brother's eyes fluttered open and the bliss there twisted Sherlock's heart. 

"I'm disconnecting the neural handshake."

"John, no, you can't, not yet! He's still in there!" Sherlock looked over his shoulder at his partner, "Mycroft! - He's **in** the computer system. He's controlling it."

"Controlling what?"

" **Everything.** "

"Movement in the Drake breach," Mycroft murmured, "Reorienting the satellite cannons... Transmitting deployment plan to Drake Shatterdome..."

Sherlock shook his head, "We can't pull him out now."

"Jesus Christ," John breathed. He looked over at Lani, then back at Sherlock, "She said he's fighting her. And he told you he understands. What does he understand?"

Mycroft's eyes drifted open again, seeking Sherlock's through the vivid patterns of data. He reached up to press his brother's hand to his cheek and laughed lightly, then he slipped away again. The computers whined and the PONS system strained. "I don't know," Sherlock said. "Mycroft? _Mycroft!_ What's the status of the attack?"

"Full deployment underway," Mycroft replied distantly.

"And you're coordinating it? All of it?"

"......Yes."

The PONS strained again and Lani grunted with the effort of keeping Mycroft within himself. Sherlock gave her a worried look then glanced at John, "We can't disconnect them now. Mycroft's responding and he's still semi-lucid."

"He sounds high!"

Sherlock peered up into his brother's face again. "To be honest, I think he is."

John flexed an eyebrow, "You think he's stoned?"

"I think he's a fish out of water who just fell into the sea."

John looked at Mycroft's flushed, sweating face and elevated vital signs. "I just hope he's not a freshwater fish."

* * * * 

Molly startled when the display pinged open next to her workstation. She startled again when the door slid open and Sherlock came into the lab. "Oh! You look nice."

"Unimportant," Sherlock snapped, "Look at the data I had Mycroft send you. This will give us better focus."

She obeyed. The lists consisted of bacteria and viruses collected from the Kaiju homeworld as well as the dead Kaiju carcasses in various stages of decomposition. She tapped one, "This is one of the ones that we had already thought was a possibility."

"Yes, I thought so, though we should look at the others as well."

"We should get as many as we can," she nodded, "So it'll be harder to innoculate against. And I think I've found a couple of bacteriophages suitable to use as carriers."

He came over to look then grinned widely, "Perfect!"

"And over here," she led him across to an isolation capsule, "I have slices of pork, human thigh, salmon, chicken, and alligator, plus a few plants and insects. The bacteria we were looking at don't seem to affect Terran life."

Sherlock turned to look at the new data again, "So we should be looking at this group here." He input the new request and wondered whether Mycroft would intercept it. 

His comm popped open to reveal John's face, "What did you just do?!"

"I sent him a request for information. Why, what's happening?"

"He's _giggling,_ Sherlock!"

"Then he's probably alright. I hope."

"Your brother is **giggling** and you think that's alright?"

"Actually no, I think that's terrifying but we really don't have much room to argue, John." Sherlock raked his hands through his hair and sighed, "Molly's on to something. She's isolated several bacteriophage-type microlife that can carry the infection, ones that will attach to many different infectious bacteria that will attack a variety of cells. What we lack is an infection for them to carry, preferably one that won't wipe us out as well. Mycroft's narrowed the field greatly but we need more and it's taking too long to do it ourselves."

John sighed, "I know, I know. I know, you're right. I just don't like the kinds of risks you're all taking, with your own family."

"You don't like it when we take risks with strangers, either," Sherlock pointed out. John passed his hands down his face and nodded. He was spared from further conflict by a number of displays popping open beside Sherlock. "Oh, **wonderful!** " Sherlock grinned, "Is the attack over? Or did he do that while coordinating it?"

"I think he did that while coordinating."

"Marvellous. Well, good luck with getting him out of there."

"Now hang on, what's that supposed to mean?"

* * * *

There was no answer but the door slid open when he keyed in his identity code. He found his brother curled up on the bed, his silk robe pulled tightly around himself. He sat down beside him and lightly touched his brother's shoulder. "Mycroft?" Mycroft slowly rolled over and his eyes slit open. "Are you alright?"

"I Drifted with Mummy," Mycroft whispered. 

Sherlock nodded, "So I saw. I fancy that was a bit not good, as John would say."

Mycroft shook his head, "I understand now."

"You keep saying that. What do you mean by it? What do you understand?"

Mycroft closed his eyes again. "All these years, I thought she was letting you get away with it, your behaviour. I watched you get away with all the things that got me punished."

"I don't understand why they did that to you," Sherlock said quietly. He'd seen the memory in Mycroft's mind, across the Drift, and it had shocked him so much he couldn't talk about it afterwards. "Why did they tape your hands down? Why did they tape your mouth shut?"

"Ironic, isn't it? They had me in speech therapy because I wasn't talking, then when I did talk, they wanted me to be quiet. Quiet mouth, quiet hands. "

"Why did Mummy let that happen?"

"She didn't know," Mycroft said simply, "When she found out, she put a stop to it. I never saw those therapists again."

"Is that what they called it? 'Therapy?'"

Mycroft nodded, "That's what they called what they did to Mummy, too." His eyes opened and met Sherlock's, "They gave her electroconvulsive treatment, Sherlock. And... pharmaceuticals, for lack of a better word. You know what those were like, in those days."

Sherlock shook his head, mystified, "Why?"

"Because she wasn't normal," Mycroft replied sadly, "Neither was I. Neither are you. All these years, I thought she was letting you get away with things I was never allowed to get away with. I was wrong. She was granting you the privilege to be not-normal. To be yourself without being punished for it. I'm sorry I never understood that."

Sherlock looked away so his brother wouldn't see his eyes well up and shine, and blinked until the tears receded. "How would you know?" he said finally, "If you had never had that privilege to begin with? Is that why you've always been so obsessed with blending in?"

"You never had to face the consequences of not blending in," Mycroft replied, then amended, "No, that's wrong. You faced different kinds of consequences. But you defied them. I thought you were being contrary; I didn't understand what you were defending."

Sherlock nodded, "People are always saying 'Just be yourself' and then they punish you when you are. You gave in; I stopped associating with people."

"I'm not sure which is more damaging," Mycroft sighed. They sat in forgiving silence for several minutes. "I understand about the cases now, too."

Sherlock smiled, "Finally found your element? Just watch you don't give yourself a stroke out of it."

Mycroft chuckled, "Now I understand why you would willingly risk such things. Did it help?"

"Oh yes! We're on to something. We're moving in the right direction now. I expect I'll be working non-stop now until we find what we're looking for."

"Don't overdo it, you're still needed to pilot Phoenix Majesty."

"There are plenty enough other Jaegers."

"It's not just that," Mycroft shook his head fondly, "You haven't been in the control rooms... you weren't in London, you were up there defending it, and you haven't seen the museum..."

"What museum?"

Mycroft just smiled.

* * * *

The door sighed open. Sherlock stepped through in time to see John, having peeled off his fine new tunic, not yet having put on his old comfortable jumper. "I've just been to see Mycroft," he announced.

John looked up and smiled hesitantly, "How is he?"

"He's.. hm, post-case, would be the best way to put it."

"So, gorging on food and sleeping for thirteen hours?"

Sherlock chuckled, "He's fine. How is Mummy?"

John poured out a cup of tea for each of them and brought Sherlock's to him. "I went to check in on her a bit ago, they said she was in the tank. I've no idea what that means." Sherlock had frozen. "...Sherlock?"

"...Oh," Sherlock said finally, looking very apprehensive, "....Mycroft doesn't know about the tank."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly has a breakthrough, Lani has a think, Sherlock and John have a talk, and this fic actually does have a plot.

Molly looked over the people gathered expectantly in the room and cleared her throat. "We have our breakthrough." 

She touched the displays while the applause died down. "We've identified these five microlife as extremely dangerous to the Kaiju. These three have an effect similar to flesh-eating bacteria in humans while these two produce an effect similar to the Black Plague. We've identified several bacteriophage-like microlife that can carry these infections and spread them rapidly. The result will be very contagious and very difficult to pin down as to the exact causes." 

After another round of applause, a man stood up, "Doctor Hooper, given their danger to the Kaiju, how much of a threat will these diseases pose to life on Earth?"

Molly nodded, "We've investigated that question to the best of our current ability, utilising as wide a variety of Earth life as we could acquire. There is very little threat to mammalian life, plants, or reptiles. Some crustaceans are vulnerable though the response is not nearly as devastating as to Kaiju. Nevertheless, we are taking every precaution and treating the contagions as dangerous."

"So we can expect an end to this very soon, then?" another person asked.

Molly held up her hand, "We're still working on getting the diseases into the bacteriophages. After that, we still have to find a way to get them to the Kaiju homeworld."

"That's my job," Dr. Holmes drawled from the middle of the room, "You just get these things together, I'll worry about how to deliver them."

Colonel Jenkins looked at her, "Won't you go through one of the breaches?"

"They'll be expecting that," Mycroft said, "We've done that twice now: First in my era, at the close of the first Kaiju war, and second when my brother and I took Shadow Onyx on reconnaissance. Unfortunately, they **will** be expecting further assaults in that fashion. We need to find a way to travel that's independent of the breaches, to take them by surprise."

"How can we do that, though?" Colonel Jenkins looked at Captain Harkness, "You said that travel between universes is nearly impossible."

"The Kaiju seem to have no problem," someone pointed out.

Mycroft nodded, "Quite so. Back in my era, it was assumed that the Kaiju came from outside of our universe but I've long wondered what prompted that assumption. It would be prudent to question it now."

"You went through the breach, though," the same woman said.

"Indeed I did. But I am from a simpler era and since coming here, I have seen many marvels from my own homeworld that have astonished me. How could I even tell what is from my own universe and what isn't?"

He stood up and Molly yielded the floor to him as he called up two star charts, "I uncovered this recently while sifting through the materials recovered from the Progenitors' databases, retrieved when my brother and I went on reconnaissance. This is a star chart from the Kaiju homeworld. And over here, this is a modern star chart from Earth."

The gathered officials stared at the charts, comparing the two and shaking their heads. "I don't understand," a woman said, "They're completely different."

Captain Harkness's eyes widened suddenly, "No! No, they're not, I see it!" He rushed up to the charts and pointed, "Here, and here -- that's the same galaxy! And here! Look, these four are part of the same galactic neighbourhood! They **are** part of our universe!"

Mycroft nodded, "Noting the distances involved, we believe now that the Kaiju galaxy is located beyond what we can see from Earth readily."

"But there'll be other planets within the Empire that will likely be able to bring it into view," Captain Harkness nodded. 

"The breaches are wormholes." Mycroft fell silent as he turned to look at his mother; he knew that tone of voice. "They're simply wormholes. Wormholes. I know wormholes." Abruptly Atalanta launched out of her chair and left the room.

* * * *

_A wormhole a worm hole a rabbit hole down the rabbit hole down the RABIT whole_

_A whole a hole deep down underground all around twirling around twirling swirling whirling like a top a pool a vortex at the bottom of a well a gravity well a hole a ball an apple chase the golden apple chase it chase it chase the RABIT down the rabbit whole_

_Chase the apple down the gravity hole whirling twirling swirling like a vortex a vortex a whirlpool spinning swirling whirling searching reaching for an anchor_

_A spinning vortex touches down anchored down on the ground drag it along a tornado_

_A tornado_

_Anchored down on the ground tornado on the ground how?_

_How?_

_How?_

_Anchor how?_

_Shortest distance between two points_

_Fold the paper_

_Fold the map bring the coordinates together_

_Could it really be as simple as coordinates?_

_Anchor the well to the coordinates and fall down the rabbit hole_

_Could it really be as simple as coordinates?_  
Could it really be as simple as coordinates?   
Could it really be as simple as coordinates? 

The water erupted.

* * * *

"You know that I have used... certain substances to create specific effects on my brain function," Sherlock began slowly.

"You took drugs to get high, yes, I know that."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Hardly so pedestrian, John," he huffed, "Cocaine is a stimulant. I chose it because it had the property of clarifying my thoughts while accelerating the rate at which I processed my perceptions, lessening the length of time required to solve a case."

John felt obliged to point out, "At the expense of worsening your depression, disinhibiting your rage, and demolishing the grey matter you were attempting to enhance. The point of this?"

"The point is that... there was a precedent."

John's jaw dropped open as he decoded that, "Are you telling me... You learned that behaviour _from your mother?!?_ "

"She doesn't use the same substances, obviously," Sherlock said testily.

"But just the same..."

"Mummy's imagination has a strong visual component," Sherlock explained, "She chose substances that acted on her imaginative centres and enhanced her visualisation."

"Alright, she gets high. Where does this 'tank' come in?"

Sherlock chewed his lip. Finally he admitted, "It's an isolation tank."

"What."

"It's a sensory deprivation tank. She takes her chosen enhancer then floats in the tank to remove all distractions."

"You're kidding me." John still hadn't changed expression. 

"She's found it to be very effective."

"So she's John C. Lilly. It's just her and her hallucinations."

"They're not hallucinations, John," Sherlock huffed, "The substances she uses are very mild, they're hardly even intoxicating."

"If it's so harmless, why don't you want Mycroft knowing about it?"

Sherlock sighed. "You must remember, John, we took after our father's belief that Mummy was squandering her talents dreaming up comic book nonsense."

They were interrupted by a sudden noise from the Quiet Room next to Atalanta's lab. There was a thump, then the door opened and Atalanta herself bolted across the lab for her whitescreen and started frantically scribbling. She wrote and drew, dripping salt and growing more and more agitated. Finally she scrawled "HOW TO FOLD THE MAP?" in a burst of aggravation and dragged a frustrated hand through her salt-crusting hair. She spun on her heel and stalked back into the Quiet Room.

"As you can see, we were wrong," Sherlock said, deadpan.

John nodded. "So, you, Irene Adler, now your mum. I think the only genius I **haven't** seen naked was Moriarty."

Sherlock frowned and looked at him, "When did you see Mycroft naked?"

* * * *

It was a clear and starry night, so John had convinced Sherlock that it was time to talk about it and they had gone out for a walk. In the giant robot. Because giant robot. Even Sherlock couldn't fault that logic. 

They weren't really _talking_ , either. In the Drift, they'd quickly become used to the shared near-telepathy of headspace and found that they could communicate much more directly than with words. Phoenix Majesty strolled carefully through the waters of Cardiff Bay and John gently combed through the stormy landscape of Sherlock's emotions as they addressed the question, 'Where do we go from here?'

John had Drifted with Captain Harkness and he'd had a lot of time to think. 

_"You said my mind was less interesting."_ Sherlock's mindvoice sounded nettled in John's head. John giggled then released a memory from that Drift. _"....Oh."_

_"Yeah. It's not so much that he's immortal as that he just can't stay dead, like some other people I know only much more literally."_ He felt as well as heard Sherlock's laughter. _"They have a saying about him in Cardiff. They say that the truth of the universe is that it doesn't matter who you are or what you are, what your gender, race or even species, whatever your station in life, whatever your circumstances... Captain Harkness will still hit on you."_

Sherlock's laughter filled the comm pod. "He hasn't hit on me," he said aloud.

"Nor me," John agreed and glanced at him, "He said it would be intruding and he wouldn't dare to intrude on such a close bond as ours."

Sherlock said nothing to that; it couldn't be argued. They were so intimate, they didn't even have to think about guiding Phoenix Majesty, she felt as natural to them as their own bodies. When they were disengaged, they found themselves longing for the Drift, wanting to be in that cosy place where they didn't need words.

John's chuckle rippled through the Drift. _"You wondered what it was like inside my tiny, ordinary mind."_

Sherlock smiled, _"Clearly you're not ordinary, John, and your mind is much less boring than I'd've thought."_

_"You're shite with compliments, you know that?"_ John chuckled. He stretched out his arms one after the other, then turned them palms up. _"So.. Are we going home, after this?"_

Sherlock mirrored John in putting their hands behind their heads, _"If we survive this, you mean?"_

_"Yeah,"_ John said, touching his right hand to his left hip, _"Do you want to? I mean, I've been giving it some thought and I'm fine with making a home here if that's what you want."_

_"Are we really doing this, John?"_ Sherlock said as he moved his hand to his hip, _"Doing the Macarena in a giant robot in the middle of Cardiff Bay?"_

_"It would appear we are,"_ John grinned and Phoenix Majesty hopped a quarter turn, sending a wave up the wharf. 

_"There really aren't many advantages to going back,"_ Sherlock said, _"Familiarity... that's really about all. If we stayed here, we would have culture shock and possibly homesickness. Cardiff just isn't London but London isn't our London now, either."_

_"There are lots of other Rifters here, though,"_ John pointed out, _"We wouldn't be alone in feeling those things. And you'd have lots of new experiments to play with now that Inspector Hastur has offered to help you learn the modern weaponry. I'm a bit old to go back to medical school but I'm sure I can find something."_

_"You have much to offer and they are used to re-settling Rifters, as you say,"_ Sherlock agreed, _"So.. We're staying?"_

John smiled, _"I guess we are."_

* * * *

It was hours later when they finally came out. After returning Phoenix Majesty to her dock, they'd disengaged the neural handshake but continued to Drift, reluctant to leave the intimacy of headspace. They walked close together, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. They met the Kaidonovskys coming off of Io Frontier and shared the understanding smile of soulmates in the Drift. 

They walked towards their quarters, intending to look at places to resettle and maybe cuddle a bit (though not even sex compared to the intimacy of Drifting, John thought.) He knew instinctively that Sherlock wanted to check the status of the bacteriophages in the K-Science lab and altered his step without even thinking about it. As they approached the server bay, they heard the whine of the computers being pushed to their limits. They weren't surprised to see Mycroft, face glazed with perspiration, surrounded by star chart after star chart, hands slack in his lap as bright circles of highlight appeared around star clusters and galaxies, drawing lines between them, assembling the common features onto another chart as he sought the location of the Kaiju homeworld. 

No, what surprised them was the occupant of the other PONS, the pilot keeping Mycroft on task and preventing him from losing himself in the data stream. Sitting calmly in another chair, eyes closed and brow unfurrowed, seemingly unstrained by the task of keeping Mycroft from breaking loose, was Molly.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lani and Mycroft find the answers, each in their own way.

_Fold the map fold the map how to fold the map?_

_Shortest distance between two points fold the map bring the points together how?_

_A whirlpool a well falling down into the well chase the RABIT down the hole_

_Chase the RABIT chase the RABIT falling down drifting down don't chase the RABIT in the drift_

_Drifting falling into the drift into the drift into the rift_

_Into the Drift_

_Into the Rift_

_Into the Rift_

_Into the Rift_

_Chase the RABIT into the Rift_

The water erupted. 

* * * *

"Jack! JACK!" They turned at the sound of pounding feet and Atalanta screaming at the top of her lungs. **"JACK!"**

She skidded around a corner, wiping out and scrambling back to her feet, clutching her towel tightly. Colonel Jenkins elbowed Captain Harkness before he could say anything about the dripping scientist sprinting towards him. "Doctor Holmes?"

"We go through the Rift," she panted, salt crusting on her skin. Without a word, Sherlock stepped forward and draped his coat around his mother while John tried not to laugh. "I can modify a Golden Apple and send it through the Rift. All I need are the coordinates."

Captain Harkness stared at her. "That's... going to take considerable modification of the Rift controls. I'm not sure we can do that."

"We can. **I** can," Lani affirmed.

"I believe you," Jack nodded, "I'll make the arrangements to get you access to the Rift."

* * * *

"It's down to you, now, Number One," Lani whispered. Mycroft's eyes fluttered open and he smiled at her. "Molly and Sherlock have the method, I have the means - all we need is where to go. And then," she brushed his damp hair back and kissed his flushed forehead, "We all go out to supper." 

"I'm getting closer, Mummy," Mycroft whispered.

"I know." She kissed him again then turned to his co-pilot, keeping Mycroft from losing himself entirely in the data. "How are you doing, Molly?"

Molly was flushed and sweating as well but didn't appear strained. "I'm fine," she smiled, "We had a break half an hour ago."

"Good. Let me know if you need a full break or a third pilot to share the load."

"I will, Dr. Holmes."

She squeezed Molly's hand then went down to the training rooms. There was a PONS class going but Sherlock and John weren't teaching it so she went to the combat room to find them demonstrating Drift compatibility to another class. 

Combat in the Shatterdome wasn't like any other dojo. Combat here wasn't meant only to train physically, but to train the Ranger cadets to understand one another's movements. Combat was a conversation without words, knowing what your partner was going to do next. Those who did it best were deemed to be Drift compatible. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson did it exquisitely. 

She watched as they span elegantly about each other, weaving in and out of each other's spaces. It wasn't even a duel, more like a dance. Strikes were offered but always parried, none landed and neither got the better of the other. Their gazes were locked. Atalanta's flicked around the watching cadets, noticing a few blushing and shifting as they realised that this wasn't fighting, it was foreplay. She grinned impishly.

The Kaidonovsky couple stepped into the ring and Phoenix Majesty immediately went back-to-back. They were Phoenix Majesty now, even without the robot. They might as well be Drifting, their synchronicity was so perfect, so distinct. Cherno Alpha - and they were still Cherno Alpha, despite that they now piloted Io Frontier - moved into an attack formation and offered strikes, elegantly parried and returned. The duet had become a quartet. She watched the two couples, seemingly two brains in four bodies, as they wove about and through one another. Perfectly timed, teaching through their silent movements, only a handful of Rangers could ever achieve the depth of bond needed to form such perfect partnership -- Cherno Alpha and Phoenix Majesty. 

The match ended at a draw and the participants separated into their individual selves once again. Atalanta joined in the applause, watching as the Rangers shook hands in the long-abandoned custom, respect shining in their eyes. There was a bond between Jaegers as well, she'd noticed. She looked around the room and wondered how many of these cadets would achieve their hope of piloting a Jaeger, this close to the finish line. And how many would achieve their Jaeger, only to die in it. 

Atalanta had no illusions about what they were going to do. Mycroft was risking a stroke trying to find the Kaiju homeworld and Sherlock would be at the front of the charge. The probability was very high that soon, she would be the last Holmes standing. 

"Are you okay?" She felt a gentle touch at her elbow and turned to see Colonel Jenkins looking concerned.

"Just being maudlin," Lani sighed. 

Tyree smiled at her, "You're tired. We should get something to eat. Shall I book us a table?"

"Not yet. Well..." Lani reconsidered, "Alright. Maybe I can get an idea of the probabilities of this actually succeeding."

"I'll never understand how you do that," Tyree smiled.

Lani just grinned, "Secret knowledge drawn from the long, dark teatime of my soul."

* * * *

Three nights later, Lani was startled awake when her comm chirped insistently. She opened it and stared. Then she launched herself from her bed, slapping open another comm window.

" _ **Tyree!!**_ Tyree, wake up! Mycroft's done it! Book a table for twelve for...... seven o'clock! We're moving!"


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Atalanta rejects your physics and substitutes her own, much to Mycroft's dismay.

A reservation for twelve had been made but fifteen actually showed up and more kept coming in. The wait staff were having to find more chairs to add to what was quickly becoming a constellation of dining tables. Curiously, absolutely nobody showed up right at seven o'clock, not even Mycroft. Atalanta carefully kept track of each person's arrival time, where they sat, what they ordered and how long they stayed. 

"Why are we here, John?" Sherlock murmured.

John sighed. "We're here because your mum invited us," he said, "We're here because she's a genius and you're proud of her and you want to spend time with her again."

"Why does spending time with Mummy have to involve... twenty other people now, I thought you said the reservation was for twelve?"

John frowned and nodded then leaned over to Captain Harkness, "Was this an open call? We thought it was for twelve."

Jack nodded, "It was for twelve. I didn't expect this many people to show up. Word must be getting around."

"Does this happen a lot in these times? Other people just show up without an invitation?"

Jack shook his head but grinned, "No. Don't worry, it's part of the process."

"I have no idea what you mean," John said. He turned back to Sherlock, "He says twelve were invited and this sort of thing doesn't usually happen."

"Why twelve? Mummy doesn't go in for large groups any more than Mycroft or I do," Sherlock complained. Beside him, Mycroft frowned.

"Perhaps she's found more friends now that she's in a better place."

"Twelve was the first number of the first set of coordinates I found," Mycroft murmured, "The first number of the second set was seven."

Sherlock sucked in a breath. "...What's the address of this restaurant?"

Mycroft looked it up then pinched the bridge of his nose, "It corresponds to the first digits of the third and fourth set of coordinates." He rolled his eyes then his fist slammed down onto the table and he glared at Atalanta, " _Bistromathics_ , Mummy?!"

Lani looked up with a wicked grin, "Shush dear, Mummy's calculating."

"Mummy, that was a work of **fiction.** "

Lani tapped her padd, inputting a new set of variables, before turning back to Mycroft. John recognised her expression as being similar to the one Sherlock wore whenever he was spoiling for an argument. "Ah, thank you for reminding me of that, Number One, here was me forgetting."

Mycroft was aghast, "You can't be serious! Have you actually been risking the future of the entire world on an entirely fictional theory of mathematics from a work of pop sci-fi?!"

"Mmmmmm - yup!"

" ** _MUMMY!_** I can't believe you would be so irresponsible!"

"Irrational, yes; irresponsible, no."

John leaned towards Sherlock, "What's Bistromathics mean?"

"It's a fictional theory of irrational mathematics imagined by Douglas Adams, the author of the _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_ series," Sherlock whispered over the rising argument, "It hypothesises that numbers are not absolute but depend on the observer's movement in restaurants."

"You actually remember the _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_?"

"Mummy was a huge fan," he pointed at Lani's padd, "She started with the coordinates Mycroft gave her and input them as the time, location, and number of invitees for the reservation. Any party at a restaurant yields an almost infinite number of variables and she's tracking them as they come up, including this argument."

"How do you track numeric variables in an argument?"

"By tracking the number of words said and the volume in decibels that they're said at," Sherlock replied, "And the number of participants in the argument, which I'm just about to change. Oh for God's sake, Mycroft, we went through a **magic door** and emerged a thousand years into the future, can you not accept that our knowledge of physics might have been incomplete?!"

"I can accept that with ease, _Sherlock_ ," Mycroft said in a scornful tone that, had Sherlock been a cat, would have set his ears flat, "What I cannot accept is that a perfectly ridiculous set of computations derived from a _restaurant_ could actually work!"

" ** _IT ALREADY HAS!_** " Atalanta roared at the ceiling, shaking her hands. John was suddenly reminded of the time he'd found Sherlock in a crack den, claiming to be undercover, and he bit down hard on his giggles. "That's how they built this bloody Empire! It's how the computations for the Golden Apple drives are made!"

"The Golden Apple drives that _she invented_ , Mycroft," Sherlock supplied unnecessarily, "Remember? That she was dreaming up before she disappeared?"

"Mycroft, your mum's been making giant robots with improbable weapons systems, can't you trust her to know what she's doing?" John added, changing the 'number of participants' variable yet again.

"Mummy did not invent the Jaegers or the PONS systems. Those were invented in the 21st Century by Doctor Caitlin Lightcap **and** , I hasten to point out, without the aid of numbers on a waiter's billpad."

"Three words: Wave Motion Gun," Sherlock said. 

"Created _with_ the aid of numbers on a waiter's billpad," Lani nodded, "In that little diner across from Roald Dahl Plass, if you must know."

"Oh for..."

"Mummy is turning science fiction into science fact," Sherlock pointed out, " **And** she's been doing it all along. Face it, Mycroft," and his grin took on a wicked edge, "You're not the smart one." Mycroft slammed his hands onto the table and glowered at Sherlock.

To be interrupted by John's escaped giggling. He waved his hands helplessly, "I'm sorry.. I'm imagining the Christmas dinners..."

"Yeah," Lani grinned wolfishly, "That's where I got the idea. I thought, there's so much time and energy expended during these arguments, why not put it to good use?" 

* * * *

"It... looks kind of like a Stargate," Molly observed. She and Mycroft had been crunching the numbers all night and all day, developing the equations that Atalanta required. She was exhausted but exhiliarated and very interested to see how the results of their efforts were going to come together.

"It should work like one too, if I get this right," Lani nodded, "This is a Golden Apple drive."

"How does it work?"

"It creates a small Kerr singularity and projects it in front of a ship, creating a gravity well. The ship then 'falls' down the well. Because it's falling, it's moving, so that keeps the singularity moving as well."

"So the ship keeps, what, pushing the ball in front of it and falling after it at the same time?"

Lani nodded, "A ring, actually, but yes exactly. It's called 'chasing the apple.' Only instead of a ship, we're going to project it through the Rift."

Molly blinked. "We're sending a black hole to the Kaiju homeworld?"

"A tiny one, yes."

"What will it do once it gets there?"

"No idea. But it seems to work out alright for the space ships."

Molly stared at her. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Lani burst out laughing. Finally she grinned at Molly, her eyes manic. "A few years ago, I was rescued by a man who is functionally immortal and taken one thousand years into the future through a spacial-temporal rift in Wales. Nothing was real, after that. Everything I thought I knew turned out to be wrong. Everything I'd imagined turned out to be functional. They'd built an intergalactic empire out of some silly little daydreams I'd jotted down after an afternoon tanked with Dreamsnake while my kids were at school. _Of course_ I don't know what I'm doing! I'm making this up! And everything I make up turns out to be working so who is anybody to argue?"

"I suppose you're right," Molly nodded. She sighed, then looked out the windows towards the hangars, where the Jaegers were suiting up. One by one, the conn pods dropped, uniting the Rangers with their machines. Phoenix Majesty's pod dropped and clicked into place. A few minutes later, she flexed into her calibration pose, which never failed to make Molly grin.

The Golden Apple began to spin. 

"Singularity commencing," Colonel Jenkins announced. They watched as energy crackled along the edge of the drive. Abruptly it flashed towards the centre and seemingly disappeared. The Jaegers left their hangars and strode out into Cardiff Bay. "Singularity complete. Feeding coordinates now. Rift technicians, open the Rift. Jaegers, take your positions. Throwing the apple in ten... nine... eight... seven..."

The Rift opened and a sudden low pressure punched through it. 

* * * *

They stared into the swirling abyss, too awed for words. Even John could think of nothing to say. Then a thought skated across his mind - _My mum did that_ \- and he looked at Sherlock. "Yeah, she did," he grinned, "With calculations she collected from a dim sum restaurant. You've got one hell of a family, Sherlock Holmes."

"You say that as if you're not part of it."

"I'm not. Yet." Sherlock looked at him and he smiled, "Look, if we survive this, we'll fix that. Okay?"

And Sherlock smiled back, "Okay." He had to look away so he looked out over the crowds assembled and cheering, "Why are they all here? It's not a rock concert."

"'We, who know you are about to die, salute you,'" John paraphrased, "That's why they always give the big silly speech and why Colonel Jenkins is reading the names of the Jaegers and their pilots over the announcers."

_"Leading the way are the veterans of the first Kaiju War, pilots of Cherno Alpha, last of the Mark I run of Jaegers. They came forward one thousand years to help us with their experience and we've been so incredibly grateful to them. They pilot the second of our Jaegers, Io Frontier - Captain Sasha Kaidonovsky and Captain Aleksis Kaidonovsky."_

"She wants everyone to know who to remember if they don't come back," John said.

They fell silent, listening to the words that filtered through from outside, each name punctuated by intense cheering from the crowd. 

_"...from Kirkwall in Orkney, they put their archeology careers on hold to pilot Laurel Avenger. From France, Yamor de Sous-Nice and Varkash de Sous-Anjou, xenobiologists who came together to pilot Frozen Fire. Also representing the Silurian people, from the Fifth Underumberland Fusiliers, Private Zan of Under Fife and Lieutenant Hepzibah of Under Yorkshire, pilots of Discover Electra."_

Sherlock grinned at John, "Do you think they're related?"

"Fifth **Under** umberland Fusiliers, oh my god..." Then Sherlock and John stared at each other with identical expressions of horror as they realised that they were next. John swallowed. 

_"Our Rangers needed to fight but they also needed to Drift. A thousand years ago, they made their mark on history by an uncanny record for solving crimes but it was their unassailable bond that made them the legends we remember today. We needed the best so we went back in time to get the best and they selflessly came forward, not only to teach our pilots but also to find the solutions to the whole Kaiju problem. Piloting our first Jaeger, the great detectives, Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson."_

And the cheering was thunderous. 

"Well that wasn't **so** bad..."

"What are you talking about, John, that was terrible."

"I'm told there's a museum."

"I know, that terrifies me."

John glanced at him, "Does it terrify you more than going into that Rift, not knowing if we're going to come out again, let alone where?"

Sherlock stared up into the swirling vortex of energy, a hole in the universe torn open by his mother, a gateway to a world populated by giant monsters on whom they were to unleash a deadly plague. He compared it to the memory he'd glimpsed in Mycroft's mind. "Yes."

"Me too, let's go."

Her pilots grinning at each other, Phoenix Majesty strode forward and followed the other Jaegers into the Rift.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Jaegers storm the Kaiju facility! ...But these things just never go smoothly, do they.

It was uncommonly like being chewed up by the universe and spat out the other side. 

_"That was a nicely graphic image, John."_

John chuckled at the thought that came through the Drift and smiled at his partner, "Better than what I was originally thinking, which was an H instead of a P."

They stared around as they exited the Rift and once again John caught Sherlock's amazement that it was his own mother who'd made this possible. "With numbers collected from a dim sum restaurant," John chuckled, "To me, the dodgiest bit is the dim sum restaurant."

"Hm, true," Sherlock agreed, "It was a bit of a greasy spoon, wasn't it?" He checked Phoenix's scanners and calculated a trajectory. Then he glanced at John and opened a comm frequency. "Jaegers, this is Sherlock Holmes in Phoenix Majesty."

"Reading you, Phoenix." "Go ahead, Phoenix." "Loud and clear." 

"It looks like Mycroft's calculations were spot on, that's the Kaiju facility up ahead. Check your positions against your system map."

"Roger that." "I see it."

"Our task is pretty simple," John picked up, "Unload our bio-bombs over as wide an area as we can, then boot it back to the Rift."

There was another chorus of agreement then Captain Sasha's voice came over the link, "Captain Watson, this is Io Frontier. How are we entering the facility? Do we use stealth?"

John looked at Sherlock who shrugged. Sensing Sherlock's agreement, he grinned, "We haven't got enough Kaiju carcasses to go around anyways. Let's tell 'em who's at the door. Ding-dong, Jaegers calling."

A cheer went up over the comm and Io Frontier announced, "Io Frontier, powering BFG. All Jaegers stand back, we're knocking on the door!"

John felt a wave of exasperated amusement wash through the Drift. _"'BFG?'"_ he asked.

Sherlock stared, "Oh my, she didn't...! She did, John, that's a cut-down Wave Motion Gun!"

The helmet prevented John from rubbing his forehead, "So 'BFG' stands for..."

"Exactly what you think it stands for, yes. Apparently Mummy was also a gamer, I was unaware of that."

"Oh god, dim the shields!" The screens went up just in time as Io Frontier fired, bathing the area in blinding light. The light and smoke cleared, revealing the massive hole in the side of the Kaiju facility and the shocked Progenitors within. As one, the Jaegers sounded and stormed through. 

* * * *

"Rift connection holding steady," Captain Harkness reported. 

The atmosphere around the Cardiff Shatterdome was tense. Not all of the Jaegers had been deployed; some remained at Cardiff, the Drake Shatterdome and a few others, a skeleton crew aided by the satellite cannons. Nerves were strung tight as wires. Atalanta paced, twirling her hair with agitation, unable to do anything else. She glanced at Mycroft and Molly, Drifting with the main computer system, watching their vital signs and brainwave synchronisation.

"Movement in the breaches," Mycroft announced suddenly, "Powering satellite cannons."

"Mobilising available Jaegers," Molly added, her words overlapping with Mycroft's as they both coordinated. 

"Movement in the Rift!" Captain Harkness announced suddenly, " **Lots** of movement!"

Colonel Jenkins looked at him, "Detecting Jaeger signals but they've got company."

Atalanta swallowed, "Activate the sieve."

"Sieve activating."

They watched, tense, until the first of the returning Jaegers tumbled through, sounding. Another followed, then they saw a shape that was definitely not any of the Jaegers. The beast charged forwards and the golden spheres lining the rim of the Golden Apple drive ring abruptly hummed. Light speared the Kaiju and for a moment, its skeleton was visible through its flesh, then it collapsed and died. Atalanta heaved a sigh of relief.

"Best use of Dalek death rays I've ever seen," Captain Jack said, shaking his head, "That's even better than the satellite cannons."

"Calibrating them to respond to the Kaiju was the tough part," Atalanta agreed. 

Colonel Jenkins wasted no time, "Thunder Belarus, what's the status?"

"We deployed our bio bombs inside the Kaiju facility," Belarus's pilots replied, "But we got separated. We made it back to the Rift, I think there were others behind us." 

"There were."

"Io Frontier and the others decided to head for the breaches. I don't know how many made it out."

Tyree nodded, "Belarus, get checked out in medical then stand by. There's activity in both breaches, we'll need you on deck to help out."

"Yes, ma'am."

"More Jaeger signals approaching through the Rift," Captain Jack announced.

Atalanta watched as more and more of the Jaegers returned home, successfully evading their pursuers. Each time, she held her breath, straining to see one particular Jaeger silhouette. 

* * * *

"We're cut off!"

"Electra, get behind us! Back to back! Where's Io?"

"I don't know, Phoenix! We lost track of them!"

"How many are left?"

"Five more with us, Captain, sir!"

"We're in sight of the Atlantic breach," Sherlock called into the commlink, "Five hundred metres that way. All Jaegers, join up with us."

"You have an idea," John said in a low voice.

Sherlock nodded, "Mummy put a weapon on this thing that we haven't used yet."

John looked at the crowds of Kaiju massing to block their escape route, "I'd say it's time to use it."

"Everybody grab hold and do NOT let go," Sherlock called. Phoenix Majesty grasped the hands of her nearest companion Jaegers. He reached to tap a few controls and glanced at John, _"John, if this doesn't work..."_

_"Yeah. I know, Sherlock. Me too,"_ John took a deep breath, _"Let's do this."_

"I can't believe I'm actually going to say this," Sherlock sighed, "Prepare to transmute to Fiery Phoenix!" 

The AI announced, _"Fiery Phoenix, activating. Fiery Phoenix, online."_ Then the world went white as plasma abruptly enclosed it with a sound like nothing they'd ever heard. 

She shot forward, burning through the massed Kaiju and forcing them to draw back, screeching. All of the Jaegers engaged their tsunami engines, turning the chain of machines into a comet, blazing into the breach. 

They were nearing the surface of the Atlantic when a rose of pain suddenly blossomed behind Sherlock's right ear. Abruptly he was alone in the Drift.

_"Pilot out of alignment. Pilot one, disengaged. Phoenix Majesty, offline."_

"John?! John! **_JOHN!_** "


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under attack and with John out of action, Sherlock is trying to pilot Phoenix Majesty alone!

"Detecting Jaeger signatures in both breaches," Mycroft reported, to cautious applause.

"And an awful lot of Kaiju," Captain Harkness observed, "But Mycroft's cannon patterns are helping with that."

Colonel Jenkins nodded, "Deploy the remaining Jaegers to help with the Kaiju."

Mycroft spoke again, "Drake Shatterdome reports they've detected Io Frontier's signal." A cheer went up. "Discover Electra's signal, in the Atlantic." Another cheer. "Laurel Avenger identified, Atlantic. Crusader Nunavut, Drake Passage."

Atalanta listened to the list of names, anxiety making her nauseous. 

"Phoenix Majesty's signal is in the Atlantic!!" A massive cheer went up then petered out as they noticed Mycroft's expression, "There's something wrong. Phoenix is only half online."

Captain Harkness slapped open a comm channel, "Phoenix Majesty, are you alright? John? Sherlock? What's happening?"

There was no answer for a long time, only the groans of someone struggling and in pain. "John..."

Mycroft leaned forward as he struggled to uplink to Phoenix Majesty's AI, "Sherlock, what's happened to John?"

"I think... auugh.. He must have had a stroke.."

Molly's eyes widened as the uplink connected, "Mycroft, he's trying to pilot that thing alone!"

Captain Harkness turned back to the commlink, "Jaegers, is there anyone who can assist Phoenix Majesty?"

"Cardiff, this is Laurel Avenger. We're trying to assist but there are too many Kaiju."

"Roger that, Laurel, we've sent reinforcements."

"John was in the Drift when he had a stroke," Lani murmured, "Sherlock would have felt it. And now Sherlock is trying to pilot alone. He can't do this, he'll stroke out for certain."

"Can we get another pilot out to him?" Captain Jack asked, "I Drifted with Captain Watson."

Mycroft shook his head, "Sherlock's not like John. He can't Drift with just anybody. He'll Drift with me..."

"And we have no Jaegers left," Colonel Jenkins added. 

"There's Shadow Onyx," Lani said thoughtfully, "But you're her pilot."

"I can Drift with Sherlock," Molly interjected, "I'm certain of it. He trusts me."

Lani nodded decisively. "Get me a drivesuit! Mycroft, Molly, suit up, we're taking Shadow Onyx."

Molly nodded and pulled off her PONS set. Mycroft did as well but apparently bickering ran in the Holmes' genetics. "I feel I should point out that there are Kaiju out there," he said as he followed them down the drivesuit room corridor, "Kaiju which we shall no doubt have to engage. Do either of you actually know how to fight?"

"I lived in London, I'm small and quiet and I worked late nights in a morgue," Molly replied. 

Lani scowled at him, "Shut up and get in the car!" They marched into the cockpit and Lani climbed into the harness stirrups, "Molly, we'll send you out through the roof hatch. We'll try to get you into Phoenix Majesty the same way but if you have to go through the medical bay doors, there's a lift up to the cockpit."

"Got it," Molly said, finding a place to brace herself as Mycroft took his place in the second harness. 

"Shadow Onyx, ready for Drift."

_"Drift commencing. Commencing neural handshake. Two pilots engaged in neural bridge. Shadow Onyx, online."_

"Just hang tight, cub, we're bringing you help," Lani said into the commlink. The hangar doors opened and Shadow Onyx began to stride towards them. By the time he reached them, he was running, then he engaged his anti-gravity pods and shot up into the sky. 

* * * *

Phoenix Majesty discharged her plasmacaster and the Kaiju screamed. Then it shook it off and leaped at her, shoving her down under the water. Laurel Avenger plunged down to buoy up the stricken Jaeger as Discover Electra launched his missiles at the monster. Another Kaiju roared up from the depths to attack Laurel, forcing Sherlock to fend for himself once more. 

John was still unconscious, slumped in the pilot harness. The pain of his stroke echoed in Sherlock's mind but the emptiness of the Drift hurt far worse. The Kaiju knew it and were pressing their advantage, dragging Phoenix Majesty under whenever they could. 

"All Jaegers, fall back!"

 _No problem there,_ Sherlock thought as another Kaiju pounced on Phoenix, forcing her back under the water. The pain behind his ear was growing and he discharged the plasmacaster again, unable to get John's saw working. He got the anti-gravity pods underneath Phoenix and rose to the surface again. The air was full of... smoke? 

A Jaeger sounded then a baton swung past Sherlock's field of vision and slammed into the Kaiju's side, knocking it away. Light stabbed through the smoke and speared the attacking Kaiju. It screamed, its skeleton briefly visible through its flesh, then slumped into the water, nearly swamping Phoenix Majesty. 

"Laurel Avenger, can you get underneath Phoenix, help him stay on the surface?"

"There are Kaiju coming, Mr. Holmes."

 _Mycroft. What's he doing here?_ Sherlock thought dimly. The headache was getting worse. 

"Cub, stay with us. Listen to me." _Mummy?_ "Sherlock, listen to me: I need you to open the roof hatch on Phoenix Majesty. Can you do that?"

Sherlock groaned but reached for the controls. It took him four tries but the hatch popped open and light poured into the cockpit. The roof hatch of Shadow Onyx opened and a small figure climbed out. 

"Now I need you to reach out and catch Molly. Can you do that? You need to catch Molly and bring her up to Phoenix's roof hatch. Can you do that?"

Phoenix Majesty's hand stretched out and accidently banged off of Shadow Onyx's head before it steadied. Cautiously, Molly jumped down into the palm and clung, praying she wouldn't be dropped into the ocean. Phoenix's arm lurched as it retracted and she scrambled onto the roof of the Jaeger's head then dropped down the hatch into the cockpit. "Sherlock, it's me, it's Molly."

"Molly..."

She toggled the commlink, "I'm in. What do I do?"

"Start the emergency medevac bay protocol, then start the Pilot One ejection sequence. As soon as John has been disengaged from the cockpit, you need to step in. We'll initiate the Drift from here."

"Understood," Molly said. 

_"Medevac protocol engaged. Pilot One ejection commencing."_ The clamps released John and he slumped as he swung into the pod. Molly stepped in as soon as his feet had left the clamps. Phoenix lurched as Shadow Onyx stepped forward to catch John's escape pod and bring it down into the open medevac bay in Phoenix's chest. _"Medical program Watson-1 engaged."_ the AI confirmed, _"Stabilising. Pilot One engaged. Initiating neural handshake in 3... 2... 1..."_

_FREAK!notsosmartafterallareyoubitch?Yousaidyouwereundercover!WellI'mnotNOW!howcouldyou?Howcouldyoudothistoyourself?Itletsthepainout.AB?That'sall?Ithoughtyouweresupposedtobesmart._

_Coffee?_  
Black,twosugars  
.....Right. 

_"I didn't realise that you meant you wanted to go out for coffee together."  
"It's alright."_

_Tellmewhatyouneed_  
Aftereverything,you'dstillhelpme?  
Tellmewhatyouneed  
You. 

_"Calibration complete. Two pilots engaged in neural bridge -- Phoenix Majesty, online."_

"Shadow, he's in a lot of pain," Molly reported over the comm, "We need to get him home straight away."

"Understood, Molly."

"There's another Kaiju coming," Sherlock rasped, "Up from below. It's underneath us and closing in fast."

"Roger that. Laurel, help us cover Phoenix's retreat. Molly, get the tsunami engines online, get John and Sherlock out of here."

"Underst--" Phoenix lurched and jerked downwards. A massive tentacle was wrapped around its leg and more were joining it. 

"Saw," Sherlock gasped. Molly looked confused for a moment then Sherlock's thoughts penetrated and she flexed her arm. Phoenix's saw powered up and she slashed at the tentacles. Onyx dove and rammed the beast, lifting it out of the water before discharging his guns into it. It roared and Phoenix whirled and slammed it with a rocket-assisted roundhouse elbow to the throat. Onyx rammed it again as Phoenix kept slashing at the tentacles holding her leg. The last tentacle cut free and Phoenix shot up into the sky. 

"Tsunami engines on," Molly said, "Come on, Sherlock... Let's get John to safety."


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John wakes up in a place he never expected to see.

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* * * *

"He's progressed into coma. There isn't much we can do now except wait."

* * * *

"The Atlantic breach is confirmed sealed. Phoenix Majesty's passage through it with the Fiery Phoenix collapsed it. We're still working on closing the Drake breach. The good news is, the biological weapon appears to be working. The Kaiju that have emerged are definitely ill."

"How many Jaegers remain?"

"Enough that we can handle it. Mycroft and Molly have been working around the clock to coordinate teams, the satellite cannons and the cannons at the Drake Shatterdome."

* * * *

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* * * *

_John..._

* * * *

"Has there been any change?"

"He's mostly healed now but..."

"But?"

"The brain activity."

"How is Sherlock taking it?"

* * * *

"It is with great relief that I can announce that the Drake breach has collapsed. We've won."

* * * *

"I'm worried about Sherlock."

"What can we do? The man is the other half of his soul and he's been without him for a long time now."

"I know. That's why I'm worried."

"He's forgotten how to function alone. I did warn him that caring is not an advantage."

"....."

".....What?"

"Sometimes you're a real arse, Mycroft."

* * * *

"The scans indicate activity but it's like it's having trouble reaching the other areas of the brain. It's as though, once the pathways were interrupted, he can't connect them again."

"Hrm."

"......"

"......"

"Has he got anything to lose, at this stage?"

"Hm? Well... no, not really. Wait, what do you mean? Doctor Holmes? Doctor Holmes?"

* * * *

"Jeremy? I need the PONS out of Phoenix Majesty."

* * * *

_My CO is down! Repeat, my CO has been shot!_

_Mike? Mike Stamford?_

_That's it? We've only just met, now we're going to look at a flat?_

_Take a day off._

_He's writing sad music, doesn't eat, barely talks... I'd say he's heartbroken but he's Sherlock, he does all that anyway._

_Let me through. He's my friend._

_Of course I forgive you._

_Just the two of us against the rest of the world._

_You were an army doctor. You've seen a lot of injuries, violent deaths. Bit of trouble, too, I bet. Want to see some more?_

_Concentrate. I need you to concentrate._

_We're going to need to coordinate._

_Take my hand._

He was sitting on a beach, watching the waves wash up to lap upon the shore. The first stirrings of dawn streaked the indigo sky with lavender and scarlet. There was no other sound, until there was. He got up and followed the drifting strains of the violin, faint and lilting. 

He was standing in a hall. He looked around, wondering how he had got here. Abruptly, he realised that he was in Roland Kerr College. He smiled, remembering it - one of his first cases with Sherlock, they had gone here. He started to walk and found a staircase. This too was familiar, he thought, as he began to climb. 

And emerged into the sitting room of 221b Baker Street. He looked around at the warmth, the fire crackling in the fireplace, the snow falling outside. It looked different, somehow. He looked around, trying to put his finger on it, what was different about it. He looked at the spines of the books on the shelves and frowned, puzzled. Everything here had something to do with him. 

_I'm in Sherlock's mind palace,_ he realised and he smiled. He looked out the window into London. 

Looking up and down Baker Street, everything was subtly different, hung with memories. Everything Sherlock needed to remember was here. He'd known it would be complex. He'd known it would be amazing.

What he hadn't expected was for it to be quite so ridiculous. 

He knew it in theory. The mind retained silly imagery far better. It still hadn't prepared him for passing through the foyer of 221 and seeing the cartoon chicken in a roasting pan, basting itself with gravy, or Olive Oyl in Mrs. Hudson's kitchen, fussing over the dishwasher that was spewing suds out over the floor while a number of cheese triangles in sombrero hats danced to _La Cucaracha._ He shook his head, unable to imagine what that could possibly represent. 

_"You see, now, why I need to delete?"_

He laughed. "What in the world, Sherlock?"

_"You asked me to pick up olive oil, washing-up liquid and Mexican cheese sauce at Tesco."_

"When did I do that?"

_"Five years ago."_

"You've remembered it all this time?"

_"The chicken is from 2014. Mrs. Hudson asked me to pick up chicken gravy."_

"That is amazing," he laughed and shook his head. "What am I doing here?"

Sherlock was suddenly beside him. "I must have fallen asleep while we were Drifting. You must have woken up while I was dreaming."

John shook his head, "'Drifting?' What? That doesn't make any sense. And what in God's name is that noise?! Sounds like a foghorn."

"Do you not remember?"

They were riding the London Eye, nearing the top of the circle. "I feel certain I'd remember a bloody noise like that in London." He looked out over the city and gasped.

It was enormous, even at this height. Vaguely recalling the Tacit Ronin of old with its joints, its claws and its triangular, visored head, it was the most beautiful machine he had ever seen. "It's a... bird," he said in wonder. It turned its head to look at him. "No, it's... It's a hunter. A hunting bird. What am I talking about, that's not a bird!"

The Eye brought them down onto a river boat and they glided on the Estuary. There was that foghorn noise again and the bird dropped out of the sky, plunging its claws into the neck of a giant beast. "We were magnificent, weren't we," he said softly, watching, "I didn't realise. We were up there. They say the closer the bond, the better you fight. I didn't realise how we'd look from the ground." 

He was being lifted in the machine's giant hand, water streaming off of them both. He gazed up, illuminated by the machine's beacons, then turned a puzzled frown to Sherlock, "But... We never saw this?"

"This is from Mycroft's memory. I kept it because, well, as you said, we never realised how it must have looked. It doesn't even look like a machine. The way it moves, it looks like a living being. Do you remember, John?"

"That's our girl," John said, nodding towards the giant machine in its dock. He tucked his helmet under his arm, feeling slightly uncomfortable in the drivesuit, "That's her. She's our girl. That's our bird of prey. No..." he put his fingertips to his brow and winced, "Not bird of prey.. bird of fire... a firebird..." Plasma flamed around them and the air screamed. "Phoenix."

He opened his eyes.

* * * *

And frowned -- he'd expected to see the cockpit of his Jaeger through his helmet, not... walls. He coughed and the warm body beside him stirred. 

_"John?"_

He was lying on his back with an awful lot of medical sensors stuck to him. He looked over to see Sherlock lying close beside him, hair caught in a PONS webbing. _"Sherlock? Where are we?"_

_"Hospital, John. You've been in a coma."_

_"How long?"_

_"Long enough to make me very worried."_

John smiled apologetically. _"Why are we Drifting?"_

_"It was Mummy's idea. The scans showed that you were most likely aware but that your brain had lost its pathways to motor functions and things. Mummy speculated that another person might be able to guide you to make those pathways again. Naturally, I volunteered. Can you move? Speak?"_

John tried wiggling his toes then his fingers. They were sluggish and the effort was painful in the pins-and-needles way, but he got them to obey at least that much. His throat felt numb and his attempt to talk produced something akin to gibberish. He sighed. _"I think I've got a long road of rehab ahead of me."_

Sherlock linked his fingers through John's and touched their foreheads together. "I'll walk it with you," he whispered.


	18. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> London and the culture shock had hit them hard. Of course it had changed, it was a thousand years on, but it hadn't really sunk in until then. They wondered what had become of 221 Baker Street.
> 
>  
> 
> Then, of course, they had to know. So they went.

It was a dark and windy night. John tucked another stick of wood into the mass heater's firebox, marvelling at its simple ingenuity. It was something Sherlock had insisted upon, after visiting his mother's cottage -- their home had to have a rocket mass heater with a radiant bench just like it. Fortunately that was nearly standard equipment on cottages nowadays. 

John looked around at their snug little cottage. It wasn't much larger than Atalanta's, well appointed, and the rocket heater was more than sufficient. It had a nice view and a garden, and out the back was a large field where Sherlock kept his beehives. It was near enough to the monorail station that would take them to Cardiff in only a few minutes - or to London, if they so chose. 

London. After John had recovered, there was a royal ceremony bestowing honours on the surviving Jaeger pilots. London and the culture shock had hit them hard. Of course it had changed, it was a thousand years on, but it hadn't really sunk in until then. They wondered what had become of 221 Baker Street.

There had been hints before but nothing that could prepare them. It started when they were presented before the Queen, Victoria IV. She had jumped up and down and flailed her hands and begged for their autographs. She'd babbled to John about what a great writer he was and it was several minutes before she could calm down enough to conduct the ceremony that made them knights of the realm. Throughout it all, Mycroft was smirking, even through his own ceremony.

Then, of course, they had to know. So they went. 

"Ghastly, isn't it," Mycroft had drawled with a mock-sneer. Sherlock hadn't replied. Neither had John. They were dumb-struck by the sign pinned over the door. 

'The Sherlock Holmes Museum.'

There was an almighty queue but Captain Harkness had a few words with the curator and suddenly they were being ushered inside. They got a brief glimpse of the A flat, now an office, but with a modest plaque describing it as the living space of their beloved landlady, Mrs. Hudson. Then they climbed the seventeen steps into 221b. 

It was almost exactly how they'd left it. There was John's chair and Sherlock's, and the Union Jack pillow, behind glass. There was the couch and the fireplace mantel and Sherlock's skull. There was the bull skull, still wearing its headphones, there was Sherlock's microscope and all of his case notes, there was John's laptop and his oatmeal jumper in a glass case, _oh surely they couldn't be the same? Surely they must be replicas, surely they couldn't have lasted a thousand years?_ The violin and John's RAMC mug were definitely replicas, since they had brought those with them.

He'd looked up and noticed the pictures, portraits of himself and Sherlock. Some took care to showcase Sherlock's distinctive profile but he'd been surprised at just how distinguished some of his own portraits appeared _oh god they even had one from the moustache period where on earth did they dig that one up?_ To John's surprise, there were even a few portraits of Mycroft and one of "Detective Inspector G. Lestrade" - apparently Greg's name had been lost to time. John had looked around to see Sherlock reading some of the descriptions. The poor man had looked so bewildered. 

They became aware of the whispering. People were looking at the portraits then staring at them both. Rumour had gotten around and when someone worked up the nerve to ask and Sherlock unwittingly said yes.....

He'd been silent the whole ride back to Cardiff.

"Can you imagine how it felt for me, to step out a thousand years into the future and discover that my boys had left such an enduring mark on history?" Lani had said, "Your books never went out of print, Doctor Watson. Well, I say 'print...'"

And John had shaken his head, unable to fathom it.

He checked the fire again and sat on the radiant bench, savouring its cosy warmth, and opened his reader. All of his books were there, all of the blog posts that he'd rewritten into prose stories and some that he'd written directly. He'd have new stories soon: Sherlock had hit it off brilliantly with the Cardiff city police and Detective Inspector Hastur had made good on her promise to give him access to all the education he could want. _'The New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes,'_ John thought, shaking his head and smiling, _'In the 31st Century.' God, could we get any more Duck Dodgers?_

The door banged open and Sherlock himself blew in, almost literally given the force of the wind. He hung up his coat and scarf then made straight for the pyjamas that John had tucked warming on the radiant bench and changed into them without a thought for modesty. John just shook his head and grinned then poured tea from the pot on the radiant heater's hob. He handed a cup to Sherlock, who had tucked himself up onto the radiant bench, squirming delightedly. "Case solved, then?"

"It was a chameloid!" Sherlock burst out excitedly, "Who forgot that humans don't have the same fingerprints on both hands! A chameloid, John!"

"What, the thief was a shapeshifter?" John said incredulously.

"The fingerprints matched those of Mis Pike but nobody noticed that the left hand prints were exactly the same as those on the right hand. The hand prints were spaced far apart and human people still don't train their memories."

"Remarkable!" John beamed, "A chameloid, amazing! I was just thinking about what to write about next; that's definitely going to be one for the books."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "What's this one going to be, 'the adventure of the pod people?'"

"I might go with the left-hand angle. Thinking it could go with 'The Adventure of the Crawling Hand.'"

"That one was just weird."

"Of all the ways a printed replacement limb could go wrong," John agreed, "Fancy a bite? Tea's up." He got up to fetch the plates he'd set aside. 

"You're still dressed in your work clothes," Sherlock pointed out.

"Ah right. They're so comfortable, I forget that they **are** work clothes. These trousers feel more like yoga trousers."

"Got your classes, then?"

"Settled into the Faculty of Medicine as an historian," John nodded, "I'll be teaching the 20th and 21st Century parts of the history of critical care course."

"Does it count if you're also a student of that course?" Sherlock smiled. In the year since John's stroke, John had insisted on upgrading his critical care medicine skills and had spent a long time talking to other Rifters from the medical professions. 

John nodded, "It's a lot of work but it's worth it. Like Nicodemus says, the most important part is saving lives, not your academic ego and it **is** fascinating to see how the things we'd learned contributed to the progress, even if they turned out to be wrong."

"The plague doctor's costume was one of the first real attempts at contagion control and hazmat protocols," Sherlock agreed. He waited until John returned with the food and took a few bites before dragging John onto the bench and leaning up against him. 

John chuckled and looped his arm around Sherlock. They ate in silence for a few minutes before John said, "I spoke to your mum. About us."

"And?"

"She was very 31st Century about it."

Sherlock chuckled, "I'm not surprised. She'd had plenty of time to wrap her head around it, after all."

"I looked into the details and it all seems very straightforward. We just register our intention and afterwards we just throw a party."

"So much like we used to do in the 21st Century."

"Only less expensive and without the uncomfortable suits, yes."

"Do I have to give a speech?"

"Nobody has to give any speeches."

"I like it here." John burst into giggles, making Sherlock smile. "It'll be more like register our intention and go on as we usually do," he said, "Do we really have to have a party? For all intents and purposes, we've been together for years, there's nothing new about it."

"We don't _have_ to have a party," John agreed, "But if we do, your Mum can use the variables to calculate her next miracle machine. I understand she's upgrading the Golden Apple drives."

Sherlock tipped his head and flexed his eyebrows the way he did when he was conceding a point. "Hm, true."

"Apparently the fellow who translated her notes got it a bit wrong. She says the drives are supposed to be instantaneous. She's got a prototype worked out, looks like an old steam train."

"That's either steam punk or another of her cartoons, I'm certain of it," Sherlock said, making John giggle again. "I suppose I could tolerate a party if it's for the greater good of mad science." 

They snuggled together, basking in the warmth of the radiant heater. "I miss Phoenix Majesty," John said softly.

Sherlock's voice was equally soft, "So do I."

"We'll get to see her during the anniversary party, I suppose. It'll be good to see the other pilots again."

"Hm."

"The Kaidonovskys won't be there. Sasha will be delivering any day now."

"That's not why I miss Phoenix."

John smiled and ruffled his nose through Sherlock's hair. "I miss Drifting with you, too," he whispered. Silence, warm and golden, settled around them as they kissed. "Now," John said when they parted, "Tell me all about this chameloid thief."

* * * *

"I envy them."

"As did I, really. Until recently."

Lani turned to look at her oldest son with a half-smile, "Is another registration in the future?"

"Possibly," Mycroft said, "We have some things to work out first, but modern technology should assist in overcoming a few of them."

"Nice," Lani nodded, "Then I envy you, too."

"You needn't," Mycroft said, a little hesitantly, "If you would look over there?" 

Lani turned but saw only Colonel Jenkins over by the fireplace, talking to Captain Harkness. She turned back to Mycroft, "Huh? What about Tyree?"

"I don't know how you feel about being in a same-gender relationship yourself but if you are willing to entertain the idea, Sherlock and I are in agreement that you would find what you're looking for in her."

Lani gaped a bit. "Wh- Tyree? She..?" 

"For at least two years, we believe."

Lani looked back and forth again, " _Tyree??_ "

"Yes, Mummy."

Lani looked back, feeling thunderstruck. Tyree looked up and caught her staring, and smiled back, slightly puzzled. Atalanta looked at Mycroft, whose friendship with Molly had deepened into something neither of them had expected. She looked at Sherlock and John, as tightly linked as if they were still Drifting. Without another word, she turned and strode to Tyree. And never looked back.


End file.
